Sometimes he was like f+ck it
just went ahead and stuck em
let em fall where they stood
crack another bottle and brood
hysterically on the ridiculous
he had a meticulous knack for belittling the serious, berating feelings and imposing his will in a furious fashion. He liked knives and passion, and will cash in on your lashings. A vigilante, stealing antes to match the chips. The missing teeth of split lipped grinns bidding his amends to the dense. sent to cleanse, the fences on the perimeter. a distributor of disasters.
contributor to the laughter in the stoical spleens of nerdy teens, always cheering for the away team.
He was the benefactor of traction-less tractors rotting in the mud. He was a slacker, smothering the world in love. He was above all else, on drugs.

I feel alone
in my own shell:
playing pretend,
with my smile laid out on a shelf.
I’ll study grinns until they fit my heart.
And they cover it with blinding light.
Because the darkness
became a treasure I shall only see.
I let no one grasp it,
no one touches my true self.
No wonder I feel alone
when I don’t let anyone see myself.