normalcy.
the minds attempt
to squeeze
uniform meaning
from the scolding chaos
which permeates
every square inch
of this perceived reality.
corn fed geese, fattened on memes,
fools world constructed, and
happily closing the door
on the prison, built
with our own numb hands.
puppets to nothing, and
to return to nothing
is all that ever is

Needles. Needles. ****. ****

There is no destiny
There is no fate
There is no truth
Or justice
Or love

There is no radiation
Pollution
Or corruption
There is no right
Left
Or wrong

Nothing to dance to
No song
No dream to cling to
No hope

There is no age to live for
No beauty to fight for
There is no love

There is no wonder
Power
Or Lust
There is no war
No killing
No blood to spill
No God to fear
No list to finish
No melting sun

There is no marriage
There is no soul
There is no you
There is no warmth
There is no fight to win
There is nothing to lose

No French kisses
No French fries
No transfat
There are no lies.

There is nothing in this world that will please you
Nothing in your heart that will ease you.
Of all the deep wants you yearn to have
Nothing will fill your emptiness
So take all you want
And give all you can
And live to die
And die for (something you think is) love
For nothing is real
Nothing is fake
Everyone’s helpless
There is no need to hate.

Waking to black silence
I witness the death of alternate selves in writhing light
Gripped at the throat
Leaving breathless bodies
With little struggle left

The world behind my eyes is so much prettier than real life
The world inside my head is filled to the brim promise
The world behind my eyes is brimming with a million, million dreams
The world inside my head is where impossible possibilities exist.

I will dive into my imaginary world today
Floating on Zaleplon and Flexeril pills
I will live inside my mind's creation and thrive
While my body is still.

The world beyond my skull is beauty and innocent words
The world within my brain is laughter and smiles and games
The world beyond my skull knows no pain or judgement
The world within my brain is free from tears and frowns, from shame.

I will immerse myself in my second reality today
And I will forget nihilism and existentialism.
Life will regain the meaning it held in my early childhood
And, with Death, they will pull me, and I will let them.

There is no greater curse and no greater gift than to be aware of Life.
There's nothing worse than knowing the pointless routine
And it'll send a thinker to the grave, thus I chose the world
Behind my eyes, beneath my skull, inside my dreams.

I've got a well I need to draw from, but there's nothing in there

I am told God will fill the well

I am told my government will

I am told hobbies will fill it

"Fill the well with your passions

and draw from those

Be mindful, prepare for the coming rain

Do good deeds"

I am told the well is too much to understand

My perspective on it too limited

I am told all of these things

and none of it changes the fact that there is nothing in that **** well.

Let's be children for a day (for a year)
And forget where the hell we came from
.
.
.
Forget where we're going.
We'll run and play and smile
And leave our nihilistic thoughts coughing in the dust.

Then we'll grow up all over again in a second
And files taxes while staring at a blank TV screen
Until we realize there's nothing more to do besides cry
Besides scream
Besides laying down and waiting for death to visit.

We'll clean the house until it's ***** and
We'll invite over a party of the entire world
And together we'll dance in a vertigo of color and light...
Until the last soul has gone home.
And we'll grow up all over again for the first time in a second.

We'll remember fear and send that country home.
We'll remember hate and send those people home.
We'll remember society and dress those people like us.
We'll remember money and haggle with that nation before we head to work.
We'll remember anger and fight and take that country's home for ourselves.

Now that we've grown up, we'll sneer at that dropout on the streets.
And that family who can't afford another bill.
And that mother without a husband.
And that husband with a husband.
And that wife with a wife.
And that child who's pursuing art.

See, now that we've grown up, we can't be seen with them.
We've grown too heavy for the clouds our heads used to live in.
Our heads are too dense for us to look up at old dreams.
But our hands are still light enough to tie a tie
And button our dress shirts.
Light enough to pay the train fare
And hand in a daily report to the boss.

I don't need a rhyme scheme to describe humanity.
There's nothing beautiful about it.
There's nothing that incites a beat.
I don't need a rhyme scheme for this.
I don't need to write a song without music
For something that never knew how to sing.