I feel like a lab rat, like I’m being watched
And observed and my every move monitored.
Maybe even more so I feel like a puppet,
With different people pulling me this way and that,
Trying to get me to side with them or with her or with him.
Why can’t I decide for myself?
Or even better, how about you work it out
On your own?
Do I need to constantly be that friend who you
Talk to each other about behind their backs?
Do you think I want to be that friend who
Constantly has to choose between pleasing
You or the other?
Some days I feel like taffy, and you two are little kids
Baking in the kitchen,
Bickering about something that won’t matter in ten minutes.
You don’t realize the damage you do to the taffy
As you stretch it beyond recognition.
If you break the taffy,
Do you get a prize?

Because blue blood runs dry
her lips were ugly words.

Because
I envisioned my body splayed on pavement,
Life leaving slowly,
skulls shattered on doorframes
A non-existent lust for life you promised to nurture

Mens Sana in Corpore Sano
Boys sanity in corporate security
Because his hands followed me down every hallway,
Through every lesson
Every no turned to yes turned to quietness.
all I ever learned was to be quiet.

It’s why so many combust
high - among the stars
Pressure compacted and shot into darkness
By the sound mind
The sound body
The sound of a body hitting the ground
The sound of my body hitting tile
Your hands grasping my skull.

I can't believe that I fell for your best friend
You're exactly the girl that I want
You meet every **** expectation
You're cute and adorably lost

It's like God sent me a test forged in heaven
Here's a nice girl, she kind of digs you
Now here's her hot friend, she's easy
Come now, you know who to choose

Well I let you down, didn't I, I'm sorry
My brain's not all there when I'm dumb
I suppose my grades don't really speak volume
That's why mom says I'm a destined ***

Even when you explicitly told me
That you reached out to set us in motion
It went over my head, flew through both ears
I'm not all that good with emotion

Now you're off with that mister, that fellow
I won't diss him, he landed my catch
I do think you'd be happier with me though
But I blew it, I'll get in line, last.

I am the best of the best,
and you can put it to the test
but you will find
that only I am sublime.

Yet, why do I feel this way,
angry and repressed
tired and distressed.
Irritation is my constant state.
and it is increasing at an alarming rate.

Maybe if I could just null the emotion,
To sink beneath the waves of ocean,
To get lost in all the commotion,
To fall in love with self-devotion,
but, no,
forget I even made the notion,
of doing something like letting go.

For it's too easy a way out,
and I will not leave a doubt
that I am here to stay,
much to my own dismay.

Why?
Because, I am the best of the best.
And I have put that to the test.
for better or worse,
my intelligence is a curse.

There were five people from a tiny town;
This town they lived in seemed all upside down.
Where everyone's values were different,
But everyone had the same commitment.
On this pilgrimage, they came together,
In the lovely fall weather.
The pilgrimage was to Capitol Hill,
To convince the government to pass the bill.
For now, they are just taking a short break,
To start the government for goodness sake.
All the pilgrims met through the site Macebook,
Discovered everyone with just one look.
The conspirator made the creepy site,
Who lured the followers into the light.
This is how we do it in the new age;
When you click the mouse once to like a page.
But by far the most difficult conflict,
Is to make the government not as strict.
They traveled in 2013,
They began their travel in a ravine.
In the submarine they consumed cheesecake,
Swallowing their pride to fix their heartache.

the yearly act of dying and then resurrecting at dawn is no longer as holy
as it could have been the first time it happened
i, no longer have bones within this vessel of ache
and yet i am only tired when they ask if i am okay.
i am never tired even when i am exhausted there is a lub-dub within,
pounding the doors i have
built, to see if i was
capable of safety within these hazardous conditions.
prophetically,
i vision that as i step off the gallows stage
into a trust fall choreographed by a world
that promises to me he is better than this,
there will come
a slither of venom into the halls of this highschool and
the crowd will unhinge their chests and
let the cyanide bubble their veins and
cry out lyrics about how
who we are is who we are is who we are—
but i am only tired, i say.