For every drip that drops
theres a kiss on your lip
we can’t stop
the tick proceeds the tock,
on every clock

Little bits of bitterness
makes a mess of emptiness
The pleases of teases
satisfy our happiness
And all that it will leave us
is pure **** of nothingness

Other than that soft
sweet scent of sweetness
Where only you can meet this
going back to our first kiss
that I myself so miss

She egresses from a pool of blue and straight into the colorless, Californian dregs of summer.

Each passing plane reminding her how stuck she is.

The question remains whether some people are doomed to just survive, a yearning for freedom following them around, until they learn to numb themselves to such aspirations.

Faraway trains pass by.

The sound in their whistles knowing the events she will litigate with herself for years to come until it empties the contents of her soul.

In times when you're bored,

you just don't know what to do --


with your vague desires.

bored in an ethics class


What the actual f--- is ethics?
Ethical, morality, dumb-f---ing ethics.
Ethics are odd-
So confusing-
So wrong?
But what are these ethics,
I so hope to long.

Am I a good person, won’t anyone know?
I’ll jump to my feet when you tell me
“Hell NO!”
But what are these ethics,
Do I reap what I sow?
Is that the right sentence?
oh well
This class blows.

we heard them talking
about a meteor shower
expected later that night
highly anticipated
set to accompany
the rust red supermoon
that we caught
following us home

lay down upon blankets
a meagre effort
to provide at least
a little comfort
while we witnessed
this astral magnificence
the significanceof which
none of us was certain
childishly imagining
a spectacle from
the dazzling of shooting stars
trailing tails like fireworks
pointing in wonder
appearing briefly
before burning out

instead
we found ourselves staring
up at one of those
countless  spots of white
slowly
unenthusiastically
     drifting across
          the stratosphere
it could be a meteor
maybe just an aeroplane
or simply a twinkling
trick of the light
yet still we watched
without excitement
without direction
without relevance

I'm the first to leave,

because I'm a spectator --


of repetitions.

Faking it til I make it,
but there's a monkey on my back.
This normal way, I have to say,
is starting to show cracks.

Turn up to work and get boring **** done,
be nice to the ******* who think they are fun.

Clean up my jokes and censor my speech,
**** corporate blood like a well behaved leech.

I'm dying inside and I know this ****'s killing me.
I feel the old poisonous tentacles pulling me.

Just get ****** up,
and **** it all off,
live your worst life,
the one that you love.

I do read a lot

of life stories, never dull --


like my little life.

And as I sit
With colors all around
There’s a hole in my heart
It’s source yet unfound
When I can fill this
Temporal void
Is up to the imagination
Of a very special boy
I leave everything to you
My life and my soul
Please finally complete me
To have and to hold
In this life and the next
I wish for nothing more
Then to finally feel happy
To no longer feel bored