Every Stan's a "Stan the man",
And every Eddie's a "Steady Eddie",
Every Hanna's a "Hanna banana",
And every Tammy's a "Tammy whammy".

I'm not sure where these names come from
Or why some people make rhymes with them--
It seems to be quite widely done,
Maybe that's because rhyming's fun.

Writers always write about the same things.  Here's to mangoes. A change of pace.  A new color.       New spacing.  
Bright yellow and a dash of green.
        Skin pulled tight in a grin.
    Fruit in the basket.
It's the home you always wanted.  The cherry on top?  The cat's in the bag.
The lights fade on the scene.  Writers always write the same things.

I am stuck under the pretense that to have a purpose, I need to be needed. I have no purpose at all if I cannot make others happy. This is especially difficult to handle, when I feel as though the only way I can make others happy is by being gone. The only thing I can actually do right is leave. I want to wanted.

How do I sleep at night?
When you're losing this fight
Choking on candid emotions
That I can't even eat
Look at me, I'm thinning
Sure you are too
Sure it's a symbol
Of what's going to happen to you
I can't even fathom
You not being here
No more of this chasm
That you've fallen into
I'm sure if you die
I will too.

Time may be linear
Space may be infinite
Even though we think the limits curve
Universes growing within themselves
Swirling around each other
Space is not an ocean of stars
The oceans are space reflected
In darkness looking down we can see up
But looking up we only see up
Tiny jewels in the infinite
Sending light
In light’s own years
DNA makes mistakes
Splits and combines
Creates new forms
Slight variations
Copying errors
That got us here
Evolution is not directed
Not inspected by the locals
Patterns may be
May form and disappear
But not everything has to have a reason

The worst thing my parents ever taught me
Was to worry what other people thought of me
The worst thing to tell a child with anxiety

At the time I didn't know that it was wrong of me
To accept the burden of responsibility
For strangers who only saw a part of me

I shouldn't have put them before the thought of me
I didn't know it would be the lobotomy
That kept me hiding in my room for 10 long years

I didn't know it would ****** my autonomy
That you can't fake it 'til you make it if your introspection is an autopsy
That you can't **** a part of your soul

With whiskey or with *******
With bleach or box cutters
With street drugs, with a blind eye

Jesus loves all of the little children
And the church loves all its little saints
But when we express our love not with words but with paints

When the checkmark just doesn't fit the box
And our expectations weigh like chains on the children we so claim to love
They are slaves

To the 9 to 5 domestic gods that clash like thunder every night
Too absorbed in their own fight
To see the fear inside your eyes

Slowly wearing down the fire in your soul
With the grit of their need for control
Teaching you how to be the best version of them

The one they didn't have the guts to master on their own
Abandoning the flower children with the starry eyes
They once claimed spoke their deepest truths

Trading in the wild spirit in their currency exchange
For your future
So they can be so comfortable on their thrones
While they forward the blame to a new address

The hordes of walking dead they left behind
Carrying the consequences
Rejecting all the that we were handed

Gaslight me on fire again
So I can shoulder all the hate that tried to smother my spark
Like your right to be comfortable trumps my right to be here

I didn't ask for this
So when you call me by my new name
Remember all the times you tried to tame me

All the times you defamed me
While telling me stories of a God of endless love
You can't take the perfect mess that you've created

And make a masterpiece, because I am one

We are made of star stuff
And I'll be ****** if I deny the perfect love I was promised
just because for once you didn't get what you wanted

The worst thing about losing you
Is that it wasn't cinematic
The last time I lost somebody
I was in a blind panic.

The worst thing about losing you
Is that I could see it coming
It was there just down the line
But I still did nothing.