i was too much.

Sorry Kate.

Enjoy youre run.

It's clear that this is what you need and am going for.


Sore.... so SORE. It's okay. gn baby girl.

You do you.!!!!

I pretend that I live
I live in in a box
Only answering
To lots of anxious knocks

I live in glass globe
That makes me so perfect
I live a life in strobe
God it makes me sick

I don't want be
I won't be who I am
I won't let life so see
I bleed life like a lamb

Waking up
On the edge of a sandbank
stinking
and pulling stink bugs out my hair.

Waking up in the desert
sweating
and letting scorpions build a lair
in my tent
and in my boots.

Shooting hares and ravens,
for meat.
For a thrill.
It's not with it to go through it.
But still I ****.
I knew..
It would hurt but I would live,
but not in peace.

Living.... with a shiv in my ribs made of the bones of all I hurt.
I'd rather nerf my brain a brain and build hut made of dung
A yurt padded with bad memories, and hurtful lovely beings.

I held an hourglass against the sun to burn up all the bugs.
All of the little critter crawlers that buried under my skin.
They like me more at night, because I'm very warm.
So, they storm my hair hedges and burrow in my skin.

The ****** up part is that I let them in,
and allow me to be itchy all night,
all night in my dreams I sweat.
It's salty, saline regret.
And it steps inside me, over logs of happiness and hate.

I let them in to help me begin to be a better person.

And they let me know that the horrorshow is that I'm worse than ever happy memory I held and thought I still was.

I grabbed all my groceries without a bag after I heard half a revolver full of bullets pop off.

My meat bag soaked a paper sheet and started to lose integrity,
ripping at the seams, and it seemed normal.

So, I freaked and I bailed, after I showered, my drain looked like a rusty glitter parade and it made me feel *****.

Clipped in paper matches was the edge of horizon about midday.

So, I slipped into a undergarment that would match how I felt

and say so much about me, without even saying a bit.

Shipped into a waxed box was all of my letters,

held steadfast, to secure from shock, and from the shaking
of rain against all my faulty, falsely made paper packages.

I hate to share.
To bare myself on all sorts of losers.

Everything thing is new news to them because they've never stepped out the door.

You're welcome.

I'm happy you paid so much money so you can ignore your own emotions and latch yourself to mine in order to find what it feels like when you live like a really real person.

I'm tired though.

And I appreciate your immersion because it pays the bills.

But still, i have my moments when I feel really mad about
how a human can by feeling.
Using the money that they had to take the place of who they are.

And I have to pay rent.
So your cash goes real far.

*******,
****** painted perversions.

It's a simple symptom,
made of soy-based meat, and lumps of super sorry self hatred, held in solitary confinement with lies, and that little bit of **** that hangs off of your hands after you scrub your hands after you take a load.

After you ****.

Slugged off a solid mud-baked toad made of humilation and june bugs.

It *****.

And so do you.

Just dont' eschew how bad you've been,
because You're found out.
And you'll pay for every calorie.

Every ad-spot.
Every sin.
Every media spin that you hope
make you free.

Not even.

You're a cast off,
frozen bug.
Slug.
Salted.
Neutered.
Faulted.
Rotted.
Broken.
Blackened.
­Fractured.
****** up
thing.
You're nothing.
Natta.
Bladda.
Broken.
Stoked in a fire of lies.
Try.
Please.
Try to be a person.

Please.
Know what you lost.

because you're worse than a ****.

Worse than a ****!
It's absurd.
You should be in charge.
But instead you're a childish joke.
For real!

Commander-in-Chief!

You're the ******-at-large.

I slipped on a pair of sneakers,
Waxey, slick-soled.

Obviously mottled with bleach blots from mopping too many floors.

Made, canvas first,
the cured in a patina of labor.

They're comfy, and rugged, and they will probably last
twice as long as me.

If my shoes could see and endure the future,
do me a favor:
Please don't ever tell me what they will see.

Innocent purple, tiny little laurels.

It'll hurt like a pimple when I popped your brightest morsel.

So...Lets linger instead into dreadful fatty food.

Because it'll be the mood, instead
That will shape what we do.

So.


I held a bug and it was dead.

And I was I, you see.

So instead I'll be much better than

what ever you'd thought I'd be....




Yipee!!

I'd soaked my sad *** in saline water to see if sins bubble up.

I had had bad noxious knowing notions while wretching up a sip,

A sip of sour, mineral remissings caked on cornered eyes.

Salting, sour corners of mourning lives.


So, instead of feeling something,

I poured molten oatmeal in my bowl this morning,

Just to stay alive, and feel something warm.


After my fifth cup of coffee,

I got bored and stormed out the door to challenge all the

Vagrants at the park to chess to buy a case of ramen noodles.

Sometime.
There would be a time I would walk home.
And i would not let life stay.
Occasionally life sprayed away.
Like a cacophony.

Nice noise, ****** boys
Noise, boys, noise, boys.
****** ****** barrels.
It makes me so sterile.
Life on ears.
Like potent steers.
Will make aggro hearts so sterile.

God, godly
Good so gaudy.
Goodness, good have brought.

Gauly, galleries have a lot
I take my pence and a ***.

Potted in a plantern
Patterned in ***** herbs.
I don't fell my motion
My love is undisturbed

How and why did I
just find you so freaking perfect?

Maybe it's real obvious now,
about how and why I did.

You lifted the lid off my world
and hid all hate from me
Ridded me of all my pain,
for a day or two so I could finally see.

I clapped together a batch of tortillas.
And I had handled my hands steadily when I haphazardly
felled a mesquite tree for good quotes and firewood.

I should feel bad for feeling
and so I do
because I knew that reeling suspicious condition
would finally show it's
ugly head and leave me cold and dead
and blue

I knew.
and it hurt, but was worth
the moment I had to spend
when I still felt like
I was alive.

So now I strive to dig the stickers out of my shoe
and show that I'm still healthy.

I'm not a monster.

Please listen...

I'm sorry.....

I don't think that I'm a monster.

I leave myself bereft of all the feelings I'm done dealing with.
Mitigated with rigor,
an obligatory pity party had started after hours.
The only stipulation
is to participate in every stage of the rapture

Messed up,
and found in her ruffled nest of hair.

I found lightning,
made of flour, dust, and air.

So, I got up for a drink of water.
And later laughed a lot.

Because I became a herb-smoked doughboy
That smelled a lot like bergamot.

Stamens float above the stems
of all upended stalks.

Arthropods can crack their
old shells upon my rocks.

Tricky little fishes find so many ways
to out smart me.

With out my sunglasses,
in brightness I can't see.

I made a snack tray out of anarchy and stale sandwiches.

I made a ******* stack so high that I'd be lying if I said it wasn't cool.

I stood, high up high on a stool after making breakfast.

I lied, after folding fried bread into a spiral, and then I died.

I tried to fold it in a square,
I dared to sow salt into a dare.

But, that didn't matter.
Nothing is near nowhere.

He always asks for snacks because
in a matter of fact always was and is maah doooggge.
<scratches>

All I did was abstained from trash built feeling
I mean I drank gatorade
By only sweet sugar is what stayed.

I googled how to bootleg, so I can learn how to sell my favorite movies and have all the free ***** I need.

Pardon me for saying that I should have found out how all by myself.

I used my first batch of wine to pickle my corneas and sear my kidneys.

take me take me..
I hate myself.

Take me I hate myself for being a girl who
has to be brown.

Take me take me.
Please take me.I
Im not a bowl of noodles.

I'm youre girl.

Don make me die.
I'm a real person.
I dont want to die under a pile of sticks a soiled water bottles.



Please.... I'm in a lot of pain.

I'm going to die....so sorry. so sorry. Oxygen is for the fun.

I remember a big lady, in her large house upon a hill
I remember big fat cats up on her window sill
I remember oatmeal with raisins and big spoons
I remember feeling when my parents got off work
I remember that they would be here soon

I remember rusty tractors filled with spider webs
I remember rain barrels were my ocean as it ebbs.
I remember stickered goatheads and splinters in my shoes
I remember squishing bugs and hate how they would ooze.

Sitting.
On oak planks.
And splinters sticking in my ***.

Pitted.
Placed on a saucer like a high-class olive.
And I had never learned what mass was.

Still, on seclusion.
Held on a highlight board.
Held up to the limelight of precision.
My work can not be ignored.

But even after I had held it.
Up close and to the light.

My ***.
They can smell it.
I don't care.
They can share it.

They can see
and they can smell
Just all what they can see.

It's nothing.
I've ruined your sight-seeing.
Because all you have is just me.

I'm dead.
And so are you.

I feel blue.

You feel it too.

It's seems like somebody left some eggs in the sink
For far too long.
It stinks and I wish I had something to eat
Maybe I'll reheat the spoiled eggs and gnash at them anyway
I'll have it with pickles and whisky
I'll eat over overstained sheets
Repeat, and renounce
My flavorful past
And then last as long as my food

Time, sorry, it's time go going to bed.

Instead I grow tired of waiting, so when it
shall will be uncertainty, let me pour into my camp and let my swell into sticky built hell who hole upon all of our hell built being.

Placid, secular wretchings have held a hilt upon a building we've since had our city agree and seal all of our holy hopes on.

Wobbegone travels hadn't held a torch to all of our second city queens who held their beautiful social justice cloaks upon brooches tied on our heart strings with pins tipped with poison.

It sings...
her voice.
Our champion.

She sings, but still it stings to know she'll have to die on our behalf because we can't handle a golden cow... Let alone: her calf.

Laugh at her
and let me be.

I want to die before I live.

Honey soaked milk is all I ever want to see..

Blind me blind me blind me.

I pranced all over a crystal path this morning

and found a fun and angry way to crush everyone's dreams so it seems.

What really is happening and how much space is the left that is
earnest and deserves the unwarranted authority

of the power and...

Just don't.


PLEASE.


Be nice!
for ***** sake, I'm getting sick of it.

I gored myself with a peg leg after refusing to leave the bar last night.

I swung around my belly and bled all over my date
Just so she would go away.

Bright, shivered bitter mornings alone allowed me to store
all of my stories in my musty electrical archives.

Still, I held fast after attending my Tai Chi class hosted by that really pretty girl.

I billed my self early in case I outlasted my own ego.

I had to cancel several mornings, then finally withdrew.
'Cause I knew I never could act how I am and see her again.

I'd love to live in a rat's nest
Besting the next rat next to me
Making meals of apathy
Slovenly licking off plague fleas
Please let me live in a rat's next
Living on cheese and liberal arts degrees.

Firmly the ferns formed an archway.
Lovely and bustling, it's dusted with creatures whose fearsome
features featured a lonesome robust fractured structure built for all
of us.

I flew against the wind in order to meet Mr. Wonderful this morning.

Had I known all he do was ignore, I might've had a second thought.

It's not that I hate him, or that he hates me.

He just seems so much more happy when I'm not around.

So, today I found him.

In a pile of laundry.

Soaked with **** and remorse.

It's much worse when it's him and not me.

I've decided to hold my head up high,
Above the noise, and amorous clamor.

And even still,
I'm enamored
by my glamorous, water-mirrored visage.

Hammered, I wished my mission was what 'this is.'

But it isn't.

But it ain't.

And I would be remiss, because I know,
For sure, that
I faint before
the shadows
and faint furrowed brows
of all of who have
had and all
of who have
may had been.

Classification of species can only bring pain
upon scenes of release or of strained abstinence.

Instead let's count our sense, scented with sensual players that be
waiting in state for some late queen to knight us into our own.

I showed up to tell about how hell is right here,
but, being guided by fear, the crowd steered my broke *** into a crowded oil barrel.

After emerging all sticky, it hit me that I'd be better off alone,
but I had already shown my hand and now,
unplanned,
is why i'm confused and covered in feathers.

Please listen.
It's a wistful bit of love I putt on green, afford.
Lord I'm lonely.
Good god I'm quite presently unhappy.
I felt so sappy when my world was girls.
Especially the girl.
But I stirred and wave about
And I shouted at my friends.
I dove too far from family
In the deep I got the bends.
It bubbling in my bastion
and broke apart my keep.
I leaked out all my failure.
And my mouth it couldn't speak.

You have to step
step
step in lock step
stepping in lock step
until the chief says that you're free
And then that's when you give what's left
Right
Right now you've lost your mind.
Right
Right, right now it's time to jockey for position
Quiet
Listen
Listen for the echoes of your mission.
Hard spots
don't make noise
Softness is when our boys smell blood
Now I understand
And now I'm understood.

I made a sandwich.

For my favorite girl.


I found her, found out what she loved.
So...I tried to unfurl her.
To fix up my girl.
But what I found wasn't that.

It  hurt.
It was curt.
And..
Well...
It was super complicated.

So I waited,
and faced what I knew was hard news.

Still... I waited,
and listened.

But that didn't matter

Not time.
Nothing did.

So I slid in to remission.
And held my self into a selfish chokehold.

....I'm told I'm not bad, I just deserve a chokehold.

I gambled on Bumble to cover over my loneliness.

I've scrambled, and mumbled little nothing into pretty girls.

I scraped about a belly full of happy feelings.

And afterwards I taped a shape of my happiness onto my ceiling.

I sounded off of my back porch
Making mercy out of snow
Leaving livery in the air
I performed a show

Sounding off into to the sky
Try to be a bird
Sounding of, please please try
Lovers love a bird

Lovers love what makes them love
Avoid sad, and hater hate
Let life you give all of it's hugs
And shut hatred at the gate

Flickered in a lamp
Was the last light I ever saw.

So it's time to fight
because I'm at my last straw.

We'd never had a night
Or held a monster head.

But instead let's let light
into us.
Into us all.

Sent in iron ore was the map to the shore of ever after
Placed in a rafter in a barn was stars, and stories, and glory from afar
Caked in resin was a guild of everything we ever word, a codex made of blood and wood that understood
all we ever where and every would be.

There's as sense in my garden frozen
Hardened herbs and veggies
set me on a course of action
that will set a plan of course
Coursing courses of tiny plates
Tasting bits and pieces
Places released a faction face
Found in my patrons feces
Fevered fair cost a lot
Lots souled off of dead replaces
Chasing perfect is a lot
Like living in empty spaces

Passing away is sharing the light and dark that folds in every day.

Stashing away love is selfish and you're above that.

I'd sashayed away in order to stay healthy.

Although stealthily I'd made a round robin attempt to eat

that's neat, and neither are you,

so I stew in a nest made of my best ideas

Like noodles held in stasis

I will hold fast with graces

I found aground about battered chafe a windrow full of hair.

Soaking into the ground was innocent blood caked with despair.

After climbing loads of hills, on skis from a dead Fin.

I found a supply depot where I could fit in.

I found a place in a broken world, placed fried potatoes on a plate.

And after hell had passed me by, I sent myself away.

Flanging on the fingertips of a fire,
While tipping out music,
To the holy goddess of desire.

She's the hottest girl,
that ever was.

She holds a guitar,
and that's not fair
because, how can we be cooler?

You took it all from me.
My life is a haze of social acceptance that I will never see.

Please allow yourself some bed rest for what sort of wicked gang are we.

Seven days have held heaven above my head, they took everything.

They took my robe, staff, and bread.

So instead, instead of feeling sorry and running my self dead after
the cliff had opened her arms for me.

The earth can shake, and I can starve.

Freedom painted on the golden hillside,

when I close my eyes
that's all that I can see.

Take me into a soup shop.

Take away my boyhood please.

Take me into  boiling water

So I can never see.

Please pretend that I am perfect.
Please pretend it, send it please.
I'm am oh so brown.
I send life on my knees.

I take life like a whip
Stripping me from happy life
I live so adrift.
Like like it were a knife.
"That's life"

Its so melodramatic
And like can make me lay
When a knife reeks havoc
Is when on the ground I lay

If you find me on the corner
You'll find me on me knees
I'll play you some music
I'll take a dollar please

I don't need really anything
But what life want's from me
I only pay what they think
It's worth to live and be

I have to eat and have to sleep
But really not much else
I can feel the payments creep
and ruin my sense of self

I want so much to just be free
To have no where to stay
To live in huts outside of me
No one to show my way