I feel

like I'm old news to you
like I'm not good enough of a picture to put up on the wall.
I feel like, you put me on the back burner, and I'm going to catch a-flame.
I'm just good enough to put in a folder for a year and be forgotten.
I feel like, I just don't have enough energy, or I just look my worst all the time.
Like, I can't ever amount to anything GOOD in life, all I'll ever amount to is holding a pencil and stroking the paper as if I have talent...
like I don't have enough brain cells to do anything with you or me,
I have run out of things to say, and things to do
and my actions don't express me as a person anymore,
they express you.
It's like you raised me or something, and I'm an infant that just copies what you say.
I'm on fire now, I'm over boiling and I've caught that flame.
I'm hissing and sizzling and spitting my boiling water onto your face
splattering it into your eyes.
Why must I be so down on myself?
I don't get it. I just can't do anything anymore. I'm helpless and I'm stuck.
BUT YOU'VE GIVEN UP ON ME
ALL OF YOU HAVE.
I'm sorry, I don't know what else to say.

This heavy knit on top of my beating shoulders
weighing me down as the bags under my eyes sag more and more
while they stare directly towards your direction
with my nose hairs picking up the smells of your morning breath
and the coughs and the mucus on top of all the birthday cake you once ate.
for this moment I live
and the moment of the blankets on me and the pillows below me
on top of each other as if making love.
I live
I am not dead.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Crooked streets
cracks filled with hate
black from head to toe
flags frayed in the breeze
getting arrested for a sneeze
did we really resort to this?
bettering my ass, you're full of shit
fuck all of you, go to hell.
rot away and lick up all the bugs
crunch them in between your teeth
because you'll never amount to anything else.

Unacceptable is the attitude I have.
Unaware is what I am of my surroundings.
In life's big story book I'm the page that's water stained.
In the heart of the city, I stand on the main artery and the blood explodes all over me.
In the middle of the machine, my jeans jam the gears.
On the strings of the guitar, I touch them and they rust.
On the streets, I smoke and die.
In the sky, I fly, but not high.

Lonely Seed

Feeling like you don't even deserve to see the sun, and the rain at the same time

and feeling like you're not ready to see a rainbow is a really.bad.feeling.

Feeling like you can't be yourself anymore because people aren't happy with you

will you get you contemplating jumping out of this 11^th story window.

In the midst of the pizza and the words, you reach a point of annoyance and irritation with every being that is walking the world

that is having a relatively GOOD conversation with their friends on the sidewalk avoiding getting hit by any buses. For all the ones right now that are laughing it up at a bus stop because you both woke up late for school and you're going to have a wonderful cigarette induced adventure to school, yeah FUCK YOU.

For the ones that have a wonderful home life and a clean, tidy room to come home to, PLEASE commit suicide.

For the people that are untidy, always-honest-and-nice-and-an-overall-good-person-but-nobody-notices-it…join the fucking club.

And as of me, I'm lonely, so lonely and nobody will pick me up off the ground, and nobody will heal my wounds with used bandages from the nurses office, and nobody will love me for who I am, because who I am is a monster.

[But I'm a ghost to everyone]

Honey, nobody cares.

Apathetically insane

we're all swallowing a big pill that our throats can't take.
we're all sitting down on our asses waiting for the meteor to hit
because just maybe one day we'll be able to feel pain just like we did that year.
with the snare in our ear, and the salt in our mouths, in the crevices of our teeth
plastered with tooth enamel like bad dry wall in a cheap apartment, we take no time to get water to swallow the big pill.
we're forced.
I AM FORCED.
I want to sit here and feel the pain of what he did.
but there's no possible way.
no possible way he'll ever feel my wrenching pain in my heart I get every single time I see her.
That devil, that thing you call a human.
I'm always sitting and waiting for something to happen.
But when am I going to get that it will NEVER happen to me.
Nothing positive, always negative.
Just put yourself in my shoes, and wait on that lonely, brown, bench by yourself with complete silence and remorse.
Regretful, I am.
Forgetful, I was.
Un-loved, I remain.

But touched, I forever will be.

Cosmic

twilights fulfill the sky with all things possible.
Every ooh and ahh enters through my left ear and comes out of the right one.
in a strip of pleasure that jolts through my body.
The sun, the moon, and the grass proceed to grow and come closer to greet us with a friendly handshake.
I've always wanted to meet you in the dark and pluck the strings that make up your guitar, and the flesh that makes up your face, so elegantly it all comes together in the end.
A falling star, a thousand miles away, landed in my arms tonight!
As it toppled to the ground and exploded with green light on our shoes
and we laughed so hard, happiness filled our cheeks
and tears entered our eyes.
I can hear your heartbeat, but then it stopped.
What happened?
Did the magic leave? or was it all just in the twilight?
In the sun, the moon, the grass
or just in that falling star..

It's been all the same
the speakers, and the strings and the frets
and the freckles.
But just not this time..