Enjoy the mocking tick after tock from the clock as the hands race monotony just to land on a preoccupied spot, no over shot
Reality not taught, reason is a subplot, lost in translation was the caveat, what's the grand plan for this life span time forgot
Avoiding deaths cousin, the sandman, only shortened the journey to the grand finale at the bottom of a grave plot, a hateful fate fought
Thought I ought not move to avoid falling through the bottom of all rock bottoms due to the dry rot, a quicksand sandbox in back of Salems lot
Rescue or recovery a long shot, no one within earshot but there's an onslaught of inner dialogue piercing the void like the scream of a red hot teapot
As is common with the distraught I sought help from the cold embrace of a slipknot that grew taut through the progression of this thrown together plot of a should've been cancelled pilot
Don't ask me what I see in this blind study of an inkblot, any sanity you got would crumble if caught up in the web of nightmare fuel my own mind went ahead and brought
Forced to boycott my being, can't connect good story lines, lost a dot, popped a squat in a thousand watt recliner like a pre-programmed self destruct robot
Self-preservation an afterthought, miles out to sea before I realized I've not yet bought a yacht, treading water in a tough spot
Messed around and got so high I got caught in the sky like a drifting astronaut lost in space, tethered to a dead cosmonaut
A crackpot juggernaut of supreme disappointment, walk the walk and take a potshot at a what not to do mascot
Cross my i's and dot t's with the underutilized comic sans faunt that don't nobody want, awoken by the taunt of a witching hour haunt
"Fuuck the record and fuuck the people!" like you heard from Snot, you'll probably be hearing it from me a lot
Before I become a forget-me-not long forgot but go or stay, either way, still dangerous as a traveling blood clot
The good fight was not fought, this life was not sought, everyone seems to have it together, I'm the biggest have not on the block
Do with that what you will, I'm going on a long walk down a short dock with a giant rock in each sock
Then the plan is to mock god to his face and see the shock on his face as I say I could do better and see if I get the morning stars spot

I mean, why not? It's worth a shot

©2023

I'm angry with you
I am sure you don't care
If these words were spoken I'd be wasting my air
My feelings not even an afterthought in your brain
You are too selfish to consider my pain

Today I visited the town we first met
It felt strange and persuasively calming,
I mean i wanna say i feel happy by the familiarity of the overall (seeing the landmarks, those tiny colored waterfalls near the mall back when i was a kid, my not so favorite school, all those aligned streets in slick rythem that led me home every time I thought I lost track) but see it surprisingly hurts because all I could think about when the sun hits my eyes is how i can blindly remember the way to your front lawn as if it was mine.
It hurts because I know i can drag my feet to your home in this right very second, I could find you in a pitch black evening by the way your feet strikes the earth, and I’d catch up to you and I’d tell you about how I’ve been since you blocked me from your contact list and how i now prefer iced coffee over hot drinks and how i no longer drink orange juice because it causes me heartburn and my well to live curls up in fragile shells and under my finger nails like small rice i hate it because I’m my own wide awake walking ******* menace.
and I miss you.
The thought of you missing a year worth of new findings and updates makes me linger on meals, and under cold showers; because all i wanna do is tell you how it turns out I’m allergic to hair dye, and henna, and pretty much any outsider element that touches my skin for more than thirteen minutes in total.
How I like my new short burnet hair, and that my sister had her first babygirl which makes feel old and I still don’t know if I love it or hate it yet.
and that I grew found of  black coffee, and
how badly i want to adopt a cat as if my life depends on it.
And I AM Angry.
I’m ******* because I wanna ask you how you doing, and how your life away from me been treating your codependency, has it mend you well,
Has my broken glass of memory still hunts your comfort zone.
i want to let you know I still like my Oreos and cereal with cold milk, and I like the way music hold me right back from the end edge of living every night after two thirty in the morning.  and how much i hate how the moon is plain still, and is not as everlasting and it makes me teary eyes for a quarter of a second, and the weather treats my mental health,
I’m ****** because I feel prisoner in my own bone cells and mind frame, and body image and people’s ******* expectations.

I render my mind games into hoping some kinda nature element manipulate you to text me back or persuade you enough to withdraw
Baby, if I’m still in a place to call you that,  if i told you I’m at our favorite place in town would you meet me half way?
because I am really sick of being an afterthought.