I’ll climb inside your rotting corpse
I’ll plant flowers where your eyes once were
I’ll bury your guitar and rhythm less tunes
Right down alongside you

My fox, my friend, my confidant
The last mammal I could depend upon
I don’t think you can rot your way out of this situation
But I’ll bury you with all your songs and all of your ramblings ons
About how your life, our love, my disposition
Was never quite the way you wanted it to be

My fox, my faux, my confidant
I’ll climb inside your rotting corpse
I’ll plant flowers where your eyes once were
I’ll take your half-strung 1984
Gibson Les Paul Explorer
I’ll play it til my calluses bleed
I’ll play it til my calluses bleed

I can't tell if I'm high;

Or the wires in my brain has detached the ability to feel my physical body.

& a memory appears in my head;  

That night at 3am;

It was raining and we were chain smoking in your car in a grocery store parking lot.

Foxing came on the stereo.

That's when you turned to me

& said, 'This is what I mean.'

I exhaled smoke and watched it slip out the cracked window.

Your eyes were looking down,

& I just said, "I don't know'

We sat in silence;

But I could sense your thoughts.

Inside of me I felt;
Vacant.

Physically I felt;
Tipsy from the beers I drank at our friends house.

I think of that day now
& wonder if you were hurt.

Could it have felt like;
knocking your knee against the corner of a table?

Sometimes, I feel sorry that you've met me.

Can we go back to listening to Midwestern emo bands, laying on the floor in a room with nothing but a bed and a record player.

Before emotions and opinions formed;

Before you told me you hated me;

Before we became friends again and you sometimes would buy me a soda.

When there were no intentions;
just company.

I'm sorry but my brain wont stop drumming, I don’t want it to happen, I don’t want it to end your balloon is on my screen and I don't want you gone. Ive let it get unhealthy. I have another part but your balloon won't leave my screen.
It's racing and drumming and the dam is breaking, my lungs are hollow. Don’t leave. You stop the pounding. Please leave you make me hollow. Kiss me. But it will ruin so much. I'm happy So right. Pieces found after so long. I never felt this torn. I hate myself for it.
I feel it again, the drumming wont stop. I'm spinning and its been so long. Was the dark just a phase or the light a mirage? My head is drumming and the band is catching on. The tempo's picking up and my brain is eating butterflies and hitting baseballs.
Nothing is wrong you don't want me there. You want her and the base starts to go, the colors are flashing now and the dark puddles are forming.
I hate you. I don’t undertand. Just leave me alone. I don’t want your handwriting on my paper. And the crowd is cheering too. The panic is in my bones and I want my mood ring to change. It's dark, sitting on navy and I need you gone. But he doesn’t want me there and you can't keep me safe. All I want is clarity. The drum solo is starting.
It's banging in my veins. This one's worse but I cant feel my feelings. I keep wanting for you to say you want me there. And I just want her to give me my paper back.
The drumming, the base, the crowd, the tempo increasing, and my veins are bursting. Just give me my paper back. I don’t want it to smell like you. I don’t want your handwriting
I miss my beautiful chaos. I was safe no drumming. She wanted me. He doesn’t and the balloon was never mine
I never felt my panic leave my hands. The graphite squiggle is almost drowning.
Holden. Catcher. Supposed to take notes but I cant stop if I do they will see the drumming. The crazy
And the balloon still has my paper. Chapter1 ******* I want it but I cant ask for it back. I don’t need your help,your pity. I need my chaos, my comfort. Student. Student. Bell. Ringing. Stop. The drumming. Give me my paper back. Mom text me. You understand. Make the drumming stop. Sarah. I need juniper. Bleeding myself dry. My, hand is the drum. The words wont stop and I need help
I need help
I need help
I need help
I need help
I need help
You're nothing, the drum beat is beating you down.
Categories
Vegetables
Fruit
Cars
Words
Wont stop and now it punching me. I don’t think I want you I want her and the balloon still has my paper.
******* too. 11:47
Feelings are ******* nothing and my honestly means ****.
dont curse. Youll spiral and I hate the drumming, not a beat, thumping punching chaos. 40 minutes of panic. Mud cares. I don’t need help. I hate you. I let you go, go away. I don’t want your pity
I love you
No one knows. Feelings ripping my skin im bleeding out. 5 minutes.stop.stop.stop.stop. I don’t want this, please the tempo is unnoticeable and my skull is cracking. Give me my paper
5th page? Crazy; still escaping. I have my paper back. I hate you. You ****** up. No I did. No ones fault. Lies we both know you blame me, its my fault. Take days. Run away
North Carolina. Always. Just called me. Drum is slowing. I still miss you foxing. You love me. I don’t know how to feel cause you ******* me over I ******* you over. I wish. I wish. I wish I wish. I wish.
To stop. Be there for me. Love me. Want me.
Want me, want me
So hard. Still craving the inevitable. Never wishing for unknown. Never surprises, and the lights dim.
Im sorry, im sorry, im sorry.
And the drum stops
It wont stop and im sorry. Im so sorry. I wish I was more I wish my head was less. You don’t want me there
Stop crying, breath, don’t think.
Stop. stop

(                                              )  to be decided later
2 . waaaa mommy i want my stock portfolio diversified
#? " chocolate pudding , smuckers ice cream topping, flushit
My country has no borders tyranasaurous rex eating veal
4. This is the truth as it can be represent by a model however inperfect . hey wanna go bACK TO MY PLACE?! :) NUDGE
5 i forgot what this was remember to remember it later when you ar4e relaxed.
^ 6  i only eat vegaterians that are under the age of (   )   - 60 years
its all relative and fun when you get away foxing outfoxing , convincing yourself of plans being worth planning for and carry you through timespace
&7 . We are we being  is

Pineapple dreams
And symbolic dragon fruits.
Get rid of your buttered plum
And search on through the wreckage.
I ******* hate you.
Wait, just kidding.
Foxing footprints
And coffee flavored rat bones.
Stop the trash flow.
I'm sick of ripping my heart apart
Like wet paper towels.
Pressed me like dead florae.
Against the wall and into the drain.
I am blended into ****** strings
Of sadness and wonder.
Leaked acid frying through my brain
Just let me live.
Pulled my organs into ice cream traps
And celestially conquered the
Wizard realm starlights.
I am tired, very torn.
It's time for me to rest.

Outward brain stem hummock
analogously, (asper bound
minuscule magnum opus)
figuratively paginated with drowned
atavistic animal instincts

roar back to life upon found
perceived or real threat adrenaline
splashes cerebral hemispheres
triggering body electric
to become alert as a bloodhound

countless millenniums ago
the flight or fight reaction apropos
when savage beasts
threatened tribe with bro
whizzing primitive creatures
some forced tweet crow

wing, thence railing, swooping,
trouncing dough
main housing small cluster of emo
ting primates (gabbling in primal
grunts and groans witnessing ruminants

scurrying to and fro
survival of the fittest danger field
thus by dint of inherent smarts didst grow
outwitting wily coyote, or other lion eyes, ***
ping automatic saving grace tactics recalled,
when looming predator doth woof
and warp emergency arises,

when debacle fore stalled
for time against getting mauled
whereby each subsequent ruse
out foxing fierce-some, hungry non a mew
zing potential breakfast, lunch,
or dinner as the sorry loo

sir aye sic newton, sans
this non nonsense game of "Life",
which thru countless millenniums strategies grew
layered upon left and right cerebral hemispheres few
till hetty became diminished

as proper contra bands of bipedal hominids drew
upon accumulated storied history
learned from Bubba Zayda's
many times over motley (foolish) crew

squirreling modus operandi
wove (traversing eons)
corpus collosum hair
(more so nerve fiber weave

a microscopic whirled wide web linkedin
left and right fist size gray matter
coated with transparent integument
custom made swiftly tailored sleeve

ah...proving grounds,
when forebears of **** Sapiens
touch and go tagged on permanent leave
on par with imagining dragons easy to believe.