Money melting in a spoon,
let's shoot it into our veins.
Flashing Kardashian lights,
streaming into our brains.
Donald Trump! He's our man!
Mark Muslims is the plan!

All-you-can-eat-
Pile. It. The. ****. High.
When you walk or
When you talk,
let the words squeak out
like they're between
Your thighs.

Thighs. American thighs,
Dreaming next to our Calvins.
Our slacktivism, our regurgitated ideas
spitballing out of our McDonald's mouths
into our peers' ears, distilled by years
And years of "almost-knowledge"
that we quasi-ascertained,
if we knew what that meant --
but we've been left behind!
No child left the **** behind!
We were left behind and there's no
possible way we slacked off, that we're dumb,
that we aren't the movie stars destined for
Lamborghini cars, five-star bars, designer bodies
for designer you and designer me:
the most special of the unique, the
Pearls that have been made in the
darkest parts of the sea, the darkest parts of
origin. Origin. ******. ****.
American ****: virginal ideals sliding around
the muck of a marketable ****, fuckfest,
******* of the American mind, the
congratulations of the American ego,
the proud mother and father tears associated with
buying and lying, "trying" and frying our food,
our ideas, our friends, our neo-impressionistic
children in Jordans, skinny jeans, on tumblr:
the unknowing cousin of Fox News, surprised
by its own wit and wisdom: they're ******* twins.
Carbon copies, unknowing, unwilling, un-un-un.

The romanticism of mental illness.
The close-up of reality-tv emotion.
The manipulation taught to servers
from managers.
The manipulation taught to customers
from society.

All we care about is ****, image, and ***.
Self-preservation: **** Donald Trump
and *******.

I have never smoked **** in my lifetime.
Mainly because my anxiety makes me afraid of committing even the smallest of crimes.
But I know so many people that like to light up their mind.
And my sister happened to be one of that kind
She used to always smell like ****
She treated it like something of a need
I'm pretty sure if you cut her open then she began to bleed
It'd be a swirl of red, yellow, and green.
When I was ten and she’d drive me to school
Not telling our grandma that she toked while she drove was the ultimate rule
Sometimes she wouldn't roll the windows down cause she was a bit of a fool
And I had no choice but to **** in her fuel
The smell of **** makes me happy
And it's not because I'm a stoner or because I'm ******
My reason is sappy
And it's because when she took her last breath I’m pretty sure it was smoking a fatty
Her new favorite necklace became a colorful rope
And it was a symbol of her lost hope.
And the entire time she went down that slippery *****
Right by her side was a bag of dope.
Her dangling body was the only image in my eyes
Everything she ever told me started to turn into disoriented lies
And I began to despise the very meaning of getting high
Because my favorite stoner flew into the sky
Now I know that toking wasn’t the problem
The matter at hand was a bit more quantum
But it hurts because she was the Batman to my Robin
And now I’m here by myself trying to protect the streets of Gotham.
From a super villain pair called Anxiety and Depression
Rachel’s noose was their sick little invention
I keep trying to figure out what's the deal with their obsession
With the mangled corpses that give them their erections
I ask her everyday when I curl up to her hoodie
“Was it because you were bullied?
Was it because you spent too many days playing hookie?
Was it because you didn’t smoke enough of your goodies?”
The **** seemed to make my sister seem stable.
It was like her way of getting her emotions out without it seeming too painful
She never really thought of it as shameful
But it didn’t seem to help that April
I ponder on if the **** would help on me
If it would relieve stress better than tea
If it would help calm my anxious seas
If it could possible set me free.
Now I’ve never danced with Mary Jane
But some people say that she can drive you insane
You only have to let her in your brain
And she’ll take away some of that pain
The smell of **** comforts me and you might not understand
But don’t you dare try to command
Or try to demand
That I am too young to know about that greenland
When my sister committed suicide
A part of me also died.
But now I have identified
That’s it’s the smell of **** that makes that part alive
And I guess you won’t understand until you’ve cried
While you stood there discovering that your pothead sister had died
And began screaming as your two greatest fears would finally collide
And your world is overtaken by Grief’s high tide.
You know the surfer boy told her to hang ten
And I didn’t think she would let those words that far in her skin
But when the clock struck ten she had committed her deadliest sin
And I swear to God that a joint was the last place she had been.

A green plant, a deviant to society.
But why so be. When the, so true to me.
Educate before hate, a medication people take for relaxation, a patient in the hospital of time.
Memories of the lies, and despair fill the air not only to realize, a seed of Mother Earth that can mask all of the dark sides and demise. Is not legal in the eyes of the big men.
So again I say, a deviant to society I hide to be, high the key, in the aid to my struggle, a deviant to society.

A true friend you've always been there.
When there was no one else who cared alone in a corner and scared. You were a friend. When the weight of the world was so much to bare, my blank stare. you took some of the stress away, you cared, a true friend. As I go through the motions of everyday life, the travesty and the plight, you inspire me and give me reason for excite, a true friend always there. Your green stare enraptures my mind, exhale and reap nothing but the benefits of our friendship. Thank you for what you do despite the fight to keep you down. For like many of us you're just misunderstood and to you I will be your friend in need, your friend indeed.

I've been down this road before, so ****** and cold
But on I go, thoughts running wildly uncontrolled
I just go home and silently close the door
When I can't take it any more
It's like deja vu
I'm so scared without a clue
Of how to stop the bleed
I'm so willing to concede
My mind plays tricks on me
So I set down and smoke some ****
It quites my mind
So I can find
A small space inside
Where my feelings can hide
Lock them up and toss the key
To the bottom of the black sea
It's where I long to be
Where I can't breath
Do the dead mans float
Cuz I can't cope
I need some dope
So I'm not found at the end of a rope
No one understands
No one can
To the bottom I sink again
This time I'm not even trying to swim

Been staring at the screen too long,
Seeing faces in the whitewashed wall.
Been staring at the billboard
Promising a Brand New Freedom
And yet never felt so small.

Been fighting for inner peace,
The war inside my mind.
I find it helps to breathe,
To find that positive energy...
But I tend to just stick to wine.

Been giving up on giving up,
Then, giving up on that...
I’ve been a poet
And a life-long friend,
And I’ve been a selfish ****.

I’ve ****** on a stranger’s garden fence
When I was drunk and high,
I’ve disappeared for weeks on end
And never given a reason why.

I’ve been collecting memories
And turning them to lies,
I’ve become a shoulder
That you can lean on,
But one that you cannot cry.

Went crazy in the hotel sheets,
Took a pill to help me sleep,
The afterglow burned me out,
The after-party was letting out,
Been throwing up for days on end,
The winter blues, the long weekend.

Been falling into old routines,
Been lost inside my absent dreams.
Meditate on the toilet seat
To gain a modicum of sanity
In the caterwaul of the working day,
In the onset of reality.

Been picking fault in every line,
In every footstep, in every rhyme,
In the clumsy way I tie my shoes,
In the way I do not keep up with the news.

Been staring at the screen too long,
Hearing voices in the silence.
Been claiming love and poetry
But I think in *** and violence.

Been fighting for inner peace,
The war inside my mind.
I just find my way
To fill the day
And let the clock unwind.

I wear long coats and leather boots
I wear long billowing skirts
My hair dark and curly
I sing the blues
I drink gin and smoke ****
I put the joint out with my finger tips
I hike and make music with strangers
I read poetry and politics
I am friendly and confident
I go to sunshine and music
I dance bare foot
I walk with beasts
I tread lightly over the dead
I see birds gather and hear my name called
I look down
I see dirt
I see myself
I see growing and potential
I am not done growing yet
I have not reached the canopy
I have not caressed the sun
I wait, biding my time
I collect pieces of the dead
I remember and take heed

the garden holds
an aromarous display
of flowers
sprouts of tulips
with their
caressed petals
bringing life
to the dirt they were
grown from

all planted
with a purpose
someone wanted
to see them bloom
wanted to see all
but the dandelion
the pesky
****

I am the dandelion
plucked
by the child's hands
given a purpose
for I sprouted without one

here, mama
look, I brought you
a flower
I thought it was
just as pretty
as you!

smacked
to the ground
"youre saying
I'm as ugly
as that hideous
****?"

the one
that never goes
away
the one
that shows up
when you want it the least
stealing
your sunshine
stealing
nutrients
from the tulips
and roses

in the garbage
with an old
banana peel
and empty containers
of yourt
I hear the child
cry

I am sorry
to only be a burden
I am sorry
I could not impress
your mother
I am sure I will be
one of many
unsatisfactory
gifts

I did not ask to be here
a mistake
a pest
never appreciated
only causing
trouble

I am the dandelion
the child is me
won't you let me
grow
freely

the times will change
the memories will stay the same
I remember you details
the way wet remembers rain
to have you
then to miss you
would drive a grown man insane
felt you in my body
now i need you in my veins
ever since i touched your lips
my view of life will never be the same