I want to feel your mouth on mine.
I want your kiss to start The Push.
The Pull.
The Lust.
The Longing.
I want your tongue to run across all the words I don't have the courage to say.
I want so much.
I need for you to try.
I need for you to trace your fingertips across my eyelids and not leave me while my eyes are closed.
I need to feel your mouth on mine.
I need for you to want me.

I feel my memory slipping away
In and out
A phantom in my mind
Misinterpreted by my paranoia
Engulfed in my clouds of depression
Exaggerated by my anxiety
Repressed by the constant fear of never remembering anything
While making new memories each day
Knowing I may not remember it by next month
or next week
or tomorrow
But I make them anyway

I'm cognizant of my ability to be here
In a certain place and time. For a specific reason.
I'm aware it is happening, while I know it also may fade.
I reason with myself with what I need to try my hardest to remember or not.
They all seem dull in hindsight, with a few bright lights here and there.
It will get worse with time and medication.
I can't do much else but try. And write. And re-read the memories I either remember or forgot having in whatever mindset I was in at the time.
Euphoric, depressed, aware, irrational, whatever.

I'll keep this brief
Davina McCall Presents comic relief
but evades tax like a ******* thief

I've got endless wit
you two faced hypocrite
you make me sick  

My friend said it's stupid to care
oh well ignorance is bliss
reading this story in the paper
made me ******

I;ve bought so much junk on EBAY lately and it's ridiculous and pretty much an addiction at this point.

just books I occasionally flip thru,
and exercise equipment I keep in the corner,

and shirts I toss away when I get embarrassed by the design,

and shoes I find to be too adolescent,

and hats that don't fit right,

and knives I keep folded up in a box,

and posters that
are crumpled and uglier than their represented pictures,


and tables built of recycled match sticks,

and brides that won't stop complaining,

and illegals who just run away after I open the container.

it's an addiction indeed, but I've

run out of money
so I'm cured

sugar.



the girl with the ******* sleeps with the 87 year old guy with the tumor on his ******* and lesions on his ***.

she sometimes licks the lesions for an extra
$4,506.

and for another $7,054 she'll **** on the tumor-

and for
$23,341 she'll swallow his ***** ***, and choke on his grey curly hair

and for
$86,066 she'll eat his toenails and get assfucked and attached with clamps on her *****.


and for $100,000 he'll finally take a chunky dump into her mouth and she eats it whole grimacing.


all I want for free is just someone to relate to,
or not really

i once
paid
for a *****


and it was a two for one special-

and she took an additional $40 from my wallet
of which i forgot to subract from the $160 total.

it was after a concert.

and i drove home
then walked a little bit around a pond and fed a few ducks and it smelled from the rotting goldfish
and the old mexican lady washing her clothes with that familiar
stench wafting around.

i was tired.
but i was buzzed for a good 3 days, and i just don't know what i'm even doing anymore
or what this all means.

but the fact that i remembered it must mean something-

maybe that i should try it again,

or at least just buy a doll on amazon for 350 dollars and a new pair of shoes
for
church on saturday
because this other pair is getting kind of ratty.

but really
my head itches sometimes and these people outside want to **** me

and the earthquake
stole my children from me when i was barren for so many years.

years wasted

i ate
an apple


while the hamster

began swinginf from thte branch


and licking

juices
from the cat
droppings which
formed
an impressive pile in the corner of the room.


the door
swings open

and man
yells
for the broom
so as to bash someone on the head---

usually
a random child who would spit gum on the lawn.


laughter is evident
and the breeze is cool
and the sun
is healing

and the clouds

are soaring
over equador.


i eat 6 chicken fingers

and 4 burgers
with a glass of juice.

ciggarettes are $10 now
so **** that.


and the fat lady outside with her little dog alwyas on the phone and always
glaring at me
will one day be vaporized by an incoming meteor shower which
specifically targets
her hut on the culdesac.


worms
are eating my ulcers

and the sweat
quenches my thirst

when sometimes
i'd rather be out talking to myself in peace

because

no one bothers a crazy person
especially when they're just mere centimeters
away

and ready to ****

My friend said you looked like a Paul
because your were tall and bald
I said you look more like an ash now
my jokes are low brow

When I am crashing down the slop
and given up hope
humour helps me cope

Sorry for your loss Rob
what do you mean?
life is not bleak
arsenal won last week