I hate the distortion of what we are
right now
I hate not knowing who we are and
where we're going
as a whole
as a tribe of lost souls
but I can't dwell in the dream that we're all meant for something greater
this is all we're given, so why pretend there's anything better?
You're not abstract
you're not hyper intelligent
and I would rather deliver a gory blow to your face
than endure another profound hypothesis
I just want to feel something physical
for my skin hunger to be satisfied
I just want to improve something miserable
for my existence to go to the wayside
it's not there
we're all here
so let's go outside, please
and get some ******* fresh air

the sun's out so let's
forget what
brought us here
and why anyone
pays attention to everything
and I need $100 to spend
so I can remember
that nothing
is no one
is
blank
and sad
and probably
dead.

my fingers smell like Camels eternally
because we all take life very seriously
and my appetite just died
because I got a wiff of curdled milk I fed a sunflower seed
and was reminded that I want to thizz
but lack the funds
to do so.

english assignemnts
late into the early morning
have me wondering what cancer is spelled backwards
never forwards
and once again you have me inspired
to bear my soul
because its yours

i’m an experiement

a looking glass dummy

an embalmed corpse

waiting for graduation day

and a snake

waiting for the glass to break

The raccoons didn’t know the rules of the road
they too got shot down by the police
But I don’t even have anyone to kiss, I can’t even pretend I’m touching you
And my tongue feels numb without fuel;
maybe I should say “*******” too.
Forgetting you preferred
beauty
and abuse
to praise
Do I remind you of those that care, those you hate?
and could I still beg to partake
in your spiral downward,
my personal annihilation,
a hallucination of grace.
pathetic maniacal
you can destroy minds, turn them into inspired little sheep
I hope I end in tragedy, and I pray this fate for you as well
My trivial little world to be entangled in a web
I’ll never get over this, by no fault of mine
My fingers never tire of scratching and
picking
drying peeling scarring scabbed up
Mess
clean.
It’s blue like when I met you
like skies waters mountains flowers
Blue like veins these walls electric power
like our eyes pills and when everyday was happy hour