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cupid 4d
i think i must be a goner
i say this because my parents are starting to give up
they think i go to sleep too early
and say i don't eat enough
i go to sleep at 9 and they wake me up for awhile longer
and they let me eat whenever
i don't get scolded as often for my clothes or habits
i say i am a goner because my friends admit that i am
they know that i'm an idiot
most of them will never tire of my recklessness
they appreciate that i would die to make a point
they understand my anarchism
i have become a goner ever since i decided to be myself
i wear clothes adorned with chains and safety pins
and i cut my hair when i was told not to
i was always a goner because i was told to not be what i was
i am still told to not be myself
but i prefer my axe deodorant and borrowed clothes
i prefer my punk-*** self over anything i'm told to be
i may be an actor but only as i please
i may be an artist but i will not paint baby pink and blue over my jaded green and red soul
i may be a musician but i will never play the song you forced me to learn
i may want to be a photographer but i will never be picture perfect
i was born a goner because i am your child but i will never be your daughter
and if you’re concerned about me, dont be
dead boys cannot hurt
goners
cannot hurt
i doubt anyone will find this relatable but, i write for myself
chug coffee like a caffeinated punch to your nervous system,
music too loud to sleep.

smash the cement and level the buildings,
boots too heavy to hit the ground lightly.

silence chauvinists with your *******,
anger too tangible to be ignored.

drop out, drop bombs, wear red lipstick,
moments too few to waste.
JB Jul 26
you did not smash a guitar to
splinterings: That Night,
there weren’t enough iiiiii

watching:

six cigarettes later,
all packed,
tossed back,

....you meandered off...
a long pause...

LOST CAUSE




I too patiently waited out the fight
I too patiently weighed out the fight
I too patiently way out did the fight

weighted, I, too,
impatiently,
way out,
-wait-

FIGHT
See where it gets you?
In the toilet bowl.
Open mouthed,
force fed remains,
gasping ****
instead of air,
grabbing at hair.
stop it stop it!

See where it gets you?
Wrapped up in business
never meant for
your energies,
fitting, in turn,
into crowded
papyrus.

Save me. Save you.
Save me? Save you?
Why?

Matter is finite.
I'm of it.
Build your empires.
Believe through the matter,
the
matter
of course.

I pick myself up from the floor,
and sweep back my soaking mop.
Stop?

Please.

I had a whole day
worse than tonight
just last week.

I'll enjoy my selfishness
while I can,
but thanks.
When I look down I know
one world apart
from when I look up.

A world below, more reality
than what I've known of reality
through living since my birth.

One earth, two worlds,
splitting hairs,
scrambling airs,
creating errors,
chastising errs
so much
that nothing's
learned.

Up/Down,
Living lies,
Blurring lines,
Up/Down --

It's not that I don't know
what's actually worth a ****.

It's that I see worth as a curse,
and would, rather than peace,
see ecstasy return me
into the breeze
as dirt.
Hard pang of metal
louder than my
brittle ears can withstand.
Hard ping of wonder
sent, malicious,
from hidden wonderlands.

Cleave
my warm limbs from me.
Rip
my innards from me.
Substitute synthetic
amplification
for my
basic
weakness.
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