If you ask where's my house
I'd give you my address
But if you ask where's my home
I'd fall into in your arms

I ******* HATE PLANES
I ******* HATE PLANES
EVERY TIME I FLY
IT'S ALWAYS THE SAME

SIXTEEN HOURS
OF INESCAPABLE PAIN
SITTING IN A CABIN
WITH MORE BABIES THAN BRAINS

IF IT'S TOO ANNOYING
THE WINDOW SEAT IS GREAT
I CAN JUMP THE **** OUT
AND ESCAPE MY ****** FATE

HOW IS THIS EDIBLE?!!
IT LOOKS LIKE THE HAIR OF A CHEST
WHAT WOULD BE MORE TASTEFUL
IS THE ******* ARMREST

ITS' COLD, IT'S DRY,
I WANT TO CRY
BUT THEN I'D DISTURB THE PEOPLE NEARBY

BUT AT LAST, IT STOPS
EMERGENCY LANDING
A CORPSE LIES THERE
IN SEAT 32B

IT'S ME!
IT'S ME!
THE CORPSE IS ME
I DIED
LIKE FIVE TIMES
OR AT LEAST DEAD IS WHAT I'D RATHER BE

FLYING IS A CURSE
THAT DRIVES ME INSANE
BECAUSE I ******* HATE PLANES
I ******* HATE PLANES

lullabies are counterproductive
do not bother to sing
for i will wake up,
and stay up-
to hear you finish the entire thing

i saw the stars in your eyes


...as in red stars
the supergiants on the brink of death





you should probably go see a doctor

the poet is the seamstress,
sewing words into sentences
.
the poet is the architect
building their paragraphs
.
the poet is the performer
setting the stage
.
the poet is the dreamer
with endless possibilities

-----however-----

the poet is falling apart
their heart unmendable; in pieces
.
the poet is scared
walls that protect, yet isolate.
.
but the poet is strong
and lives to tell their tale
.
as the poet is the dreamer
with endless possibilities

they said it was hard, not impossible
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
but does it look like i have the energy for that?

of course i scream when i yawn! (slightly)
is it not frightening to know that despite all this caffeine,
i am still tired?