pretty little sticky thing caught my tongue
and I think it’s time to come clean
and wipe down my benches
with fake lime liquid particles
and faded yellow cloths.

twisted the blue plastic out of my teeth,
wiped the mustard from my lips
(was laid on too thickly anyway)
popped the fishscales out from my eyes,
smiled.

let the rose water run thick and hot
in the bathtub, let in flow in and out
of all my cavities, like it and I were
almost one
(I’m already so much rose water
anyway),
opened my flabby mouth and swallowed.

pretty little green thing got stuck in my tongue.
time to come clean.

Dark souls bound
by non-death to the shadows;
Wandering, wallowing,
Looming.

Fingernails like fishscales;
chipping. peeling.
tearing at my flesh.
a last soul-torn scream.

mute-silence
carved-out tongue
corrupt. filthy.
absolution comes to none
like they--

like me.
dark souls--
Good God, now me!

eyes. cataract-blind.
fingers numb.
teeth ache.
no way to cleanse
the blood.

putrid. *****. wretches.
eating marrow
from the bone!
--
Wretched me!
I'm eating marrow
from the bone.

all gone hollow inside.
no gore can ease the agony.
moldering away.
rotting.
a zombie, a zombie.

don't you wish you were
undead like me?

I had a dream
that a man and I were making a painting together,
each of us making one quick stroke before sliding it back to the other.

We were painting a pair of eyes,
blue, like I used to paint.

I would concentrate with my thin brush
and turned the hairs in eyebrows into
wriggling creatures of the sea,
with a silver shine to each of their scales
as they dashed and dove,
before breaking the surface

During our painting he tried to convince me
to run the company that produced these canvases
to run the art gallery that featured artists
to run anything, and he became exasperated
while I just smiled, squirming a little
for all I wanted to do


             was to draw a pair

                                           of great big blue eyes

                 as deep as the ocean

                                             and as shiny
                                                               as fishscales

Every time I drink,
I pour a little out for Lil Peep.
I cruise through the streets,
Skateboard underneath my feet
And I wonder what my life
Would be like
If I had never decided to get high.
(It's not the first time this week)
And then I wonder why
Do I even wonder why?
It's not like I could have
Resisted if I tried.
My mind just insists
To get high.
These lines
Look so tempting
In the light of the night,
Fishscales reflecting
Underneath
The pale moonlight.
Every time I drink,
I pour a little more out for Lil Peep.
RIP to a G.
Sometimes I just sit and listen
To his beats.
I guess instrumentals were just
Medical to my mental mind.
I miss the more simple times.
Writing lyrics in triplet rhymes,
Getting high back when
"Getting high" only meant
Lighting up another blunt.
Won't try to front;
Too many bumps,
And now I'm slumped.
Every time I drink,
I pour some more out for Lil Peep.
And sometimes,
I swear I can see
A slight silhouette
Of my dead homies
Still skating with me
As I roll through the streets.
God only knows how much
I wish they were still
Here.
Drifting into bliss
As I can somewhat hear
The passing winds
Whisper into my ears,
That all things
Must someday come to pass.
I guess that's why
I pass the blunt
That I just laced with wax
So I can cherish these times
Filled with laughs,
In hopes they will last
As I try my best not to
Let life pass me by
Too fast.