The continuum of existence,
The constant push and pull.
No time left for actual learning,
Just dying undercover,
We're just trying to keep our cool.
So next time you actually think,
Existence is something more than a series of points
Plotted on a paper graph,
Remember this, my child,
Life is ****,
It's just waiting for us to quit.

Is there a word for days,
That seem to last for weeks?
A day that takes a life time,
And brings hot anger to your cheeks.

And what about a day,
With a tight feeling in your chest,
Where panic is your neighbor,
And fear is your house guest.

But what about an inbetween day,
Full of counting sheep,
Where you mind stays wide awake,
While your body begs for sleep.

Looking at the clocks,
               later side of the
                               week,

Nearly that day of Weekend's
                                     B.L.I.S.S
                 So nearly here, it's Thursday..

Thought you could come up in my grill and ignite me, start beef
Well imma cook you through and through until it ruins your week
Because you're a waste of space and meat to me, honestly
I'd rather pull my teeth out with pliers and then slit all my arteries

The ****t that spills out from your mouth, no doubt
That people would rather meet the Father than live in your drought
Not sure which is worse, your words or Beck's bottled beer
When it comes to drying out my love of good things its unclear

Just for the record that ****t is liquid Vegemite
And it'll blow your a$$hol3 open like a six pack of dynamite
I'll stick by the bottles of ***** and my shots of tequila
Then whatever the f**k you call those bars, like
Terminator over being weird!

Crinkling pages
Students murmur through silence
Welcome back to hell

.
                                  A week in my mind,
                       My body carelessly toured
                                                      My home
           And the world through a screen.

      I have been acting a moth on a wall
                      Repelling any movements,
                                    An itch on my nose
           Or a flutter of my devilish wings.

                   I drifted through the rooms,
          Making a few grunts in response,
       Words typed into measured boxes,
                           And my eyes cast down.

                                       But on my wings,
              Were two massive hidden eyes
                             Dressed as black spots,
          Almost as if they were torn holes.

                                           So things I saw,
                                                I overheard,
                                                   I observed
                                         And I scoffed at-

                            Two little glowing suns
                Blinding, lay in a pile of meat.
                                           Two little birds
                               That never got wings.

                                    A digital document
   Defining accomplishments of my life,
                                                   One big lie
                              I can't seem to correct.

                         One platform lined with
A millions dreams and secrets spilled.
                                       That shuts down
      Comes up but the dreams are tired.

           One big assembly of happy feets
                          A roar of laughter at me.
      An hour of lesson will be forgotten,
                                     I was a case study.

           One small group of broken souls
                              And delusional hearts
                                  To keep up my past,
                                               I abondoned.

                                             One thin book
                                Parted in the middle,
                                               Upside down
                                I can't seem to finish.

                                             Two sore legs
                                      And heavy thighs,
                                        Chipped off nails
                               In an attempt to shed.

                          Given up ideas on paper
                          Stacked inside a drawer.
                                           Dried off paint,
                                  Major white spaces.

                                             A swollen sky,
                                       A blistering land,
                                             Wilted plants.
                       Rain since morning today.

                                           An unmed bed,
                         Pile of shirts in the chair,
                   Wires tangled on two tables.
                                     A corner left to sit.

                                         One dear friend,
                                  Some unsaid words.

(I am a mess)
No point made (?)