three hours later at the nine and followed forty
(where did you go from the four)
slandered rocks he left on bricks before a bus of bad memories came to knock me down
straight into the ground I thought it might just drive me to the mantle
molten rock to cool my temper after living below finger pads and being trampled
how could I have run when simply stunned I nearly tripped
over my own tongue
I need to close my mouth
but here I am too kind too cruel to ever say a word but to never stop a sentence what kind of speech is my own
I've never heard it real so to speak you see at least thats how it feels

ask me again tomorrow and I'll say I've felt it true and that I know myself exactly who
and yet
across the bench is you

I'm tired I'm drained I'll completely explain
why I do not like you--
if only you'd sign this form of consent to never sue me over words I may have maybe said
except those are never read just signed in blinded ink instead
so really what's the use just take the helmet off my head
(don't be silly, as if I ever had it really)

he's got his heart on his shoulder but I'm not sure
if there's another in his throat
another one to dread
I hope to find proof yet hope's all I can do
for better or for worse or left for simply dead
I cannot seem to tell good liars what's the truth

Very distracting kind of abstract
Cardboard laundry hamper box filled with soiled time
Wash your clocks and clean its hands
Lord knows how often seconds wipe smiles from faces
How unsanitary, which I can't stand
But yet, the crumples of crinkled sheets cast aside
Though should reside in washer's spinning bowl
In actuality slumps glumly on my floor truly self extolled
How will I ever do on my own, after leaving from home
I'll be alone and hungry and ******, nothing but skin and bone
Anyway
It's time I just get those sheets washed

I don't mean to harbor such hate
it's not like me to do so
I so strongly believe in giving repreive
for all I do and don't know

I'm sorry to be so jaded
it's just tough to live under this roof
my space is always invaded
I feel always under scrutiny
on the edge of mutiny
or at least just moving out
(quietly, of course)
or so intended though contended
by your natural ways
to make a show of something soft
my reasoning has made
the need to know of why I'm off
you'll never get the answer that you wish for
as I whisper
something not the truth

my head's a hollow jar
made of fragile glass
careful not to break
into a hundred shards

my eyes are made of cork
but very poorly so
as everything leaks out
puddles on the floor

it's four in the morning
go back to bed
dreams soaring but
don't spend so much time inside your head
it's time for work instead
Easter Sunday

homework on the dining table
laptop and a pen
don't tell me I don't fit my label
wasn't kidding when I said
this is not pretend
Easter Sunday

six years without wheels can lead
to isolation caged frustration stuck inside a cell
inside the bottom of a well
understand me
I wish I had a bike
but really I just wanna love my family
wish that they were people that I liked
they love me and deserve it back
but I just can't requite like that
in tears upon linoleum
I'm loveless in the bathroom
Easter Sunday

potted paints in tins
glass water bottled dipped with brush's tip
crouched at a baby table back hurting knees hurting hand hurting head hurting
this is art
watercolored spit is this enough for you
of course not

another cake but without cream
my tooth lethal leveled sweet
didn't even read
fine print in the footer
of birth certificate
"may contain mentally sick"
I'll die of too much sugar
if not first by bullet to the head or any particular sharp edge
this house takes anger and consumes it straight
presumes hate
don't touch me
I don't feel safe with my roommates

to the store in the wind under clouds over wheels times two
I liked her hair; it was like mine
but no, I hadn't seen a chocolate lab
whipping cream sixty percent done stirred in sugar needs more sugar
needs more sweet
vanilla extract
extract joy then with snapped yells coursing in the veins of home
home... not really, just some walls, my heart isn't here
black pearls on fingers and necks and minds and upon my life
VPN poetry under cold sheets on a twin mattress
prayer beads of black pearls on the shelf
if it didn't take two hands to type
those pearls would be somewhere else

stir fry rice in the black skillet pan
stove top breakfast but not enough time
blueberry coffee cake in room seventeen
outdoor windstorm inner demon fling
pride and accomplishment but sorrow as well
what if it's all down hill from now
best performance in practice compelled
what if that was the best I'll ever tell
what if the slam isn't great isn't perfect
wait

breathe
don't negatively dwell
feet wide, chest out, clenched fists, inner yell
power pose and your sound will grow
in this case
your sound of existence
may you ever be persistent
in working for your dreams

next on agenda, signature forgeries
for a cause of course no cons
light theft earlier today
held the door and stacked chairs
rules broken my way
skip to offer therapy, support, care
make you feel understood

I like to think that I'm chaotic good

a new symphony
invited to a group
honored flattered
small dreams really
my short hair mistook
by thee an image shattered
sorry but new me
I think myself it suits
(so don't mind if I do)
not yet exact, sure
but we'll get there