Bean bag wasted dreams,
Legs on your lap,
Making out with a bottle of jack,
My bestfriend is on crack,
Cause life is wack,
I like the awkward faces you make,
& the way you always lick your lips,
After the first sip.
I like the human species,
And how were convinced you can fight with your eyes closed and still win.
Hawks always fly by me, with sad eyes,
They know something about me, that I'll never know. You said, " man I could sleep on you"
Butterfly kisses on bridges of my nose.
Drunk expierences.

some can say hope is beutiful maybe it is in times of when hope is your last reason for taking that last breath, or of not jumping off that bridge,
maybe it is in thoose circumstances,
but when you you hope for oh so long,
hope becomes nothing but you believeing in some pathetic idea,
and maybe when you tell someone this pathetic idea they say
" that's so normal though! how can you  hope for that?"
that's when you  know you arn't right anymore. That somethings wrong with you.
when relizing that hope for you is something the average person thinks is normal, something the avergae person feels every day.
expierences everyday.
when you relize hope, is truly some pathetic overused idea of your.
Your hope has turned into something disgusting,
when you hope for a true smile, one that you don't have to fake ,
a true laugh just once,
that is what hope does to some people. ey are at the end of their to short rope and they hope.
but you can only hope for so long.
and after you are done hoping what is left?
faking everyday for the rest of your life to fulfil someone elses idea's expectations for you?
inwhich at this point death becomes so exotic and wonderful.
and after you first think that thought, of death being the true answer,
you don't care anymore or you just start caring about EVERYTHING and every point off of a one hundred kills you,
when every inisult from him starts tearing at your flesh,
when evert thought of yours isn't "good" starts to ich ever so much more, when every glance that isn't a good one makes you feel o so ******.
death really does become your most faverable topic then, and people wonder why you are the way you are.
stop wondering and simply look at their ****** expressions,
simply listen to what they say,
simply try for them.

Sympathetic empathas saying words,
That are read from a script,
No one knew how to write,
It's early and cars,
Driving to,
Another paid bill,
Or whatever Thomas said,
Expierences fulfilled by fuel,
Maybe they aren't driving,
Or drinking,
might just be,
making babies in the,
Basement,
Or whatever Keats said,
Distantly dancing,
To kindergarteners and,
cancer patients,
Just another Thursday,
With mystic music,
Lofting around,
The empty dance halls,
Falling up,
With Christopher Robbins,
To the stars,
The bus is on time
Or whatever Dylan said.

Thoughts and actions,
thoughts lead to actions,
colors and swirrels of memories,
memories of thoughts that could have been changed,
actions that could have been avoided,
dwelling on past expierences,
wishing for a change that will never come.