I guess

Sour is the new sweet.
Wholesome isn't an option.
And Stupid is the new smart.

Deep Liquid

For the longest time, I thought that I could do it. I thought I could be invincible in the most stressful situations.
For once, I believed in myself. I invested time in trying to get my self-esteem level at an average percent rather than negative.
In the biggest amounts I would smile just because the leaves were rustling and just because the worms were alive, digging holes in my backyard.
In the bus I would sit down and just laugh at how everybody is coming home at the exact same time as me, but going home to do different things. But nobody would go home to cry.
Everybody would smile just like I did because their pets are alive and healthy, and the snouts are moist and cold. Their paws are black spotted with tickle me pink.
I imagined the feel of my old teddy bear on my skin and if I would still like it. I thought of how his eyeball would hang by a black tweed thread and how it would sit in front of my fort.
I felt the spikey table I would press the small of my back against for structure.
The carpet that I sat on that was an off-white color induced with pet dander and cheerios.
I just took in the smell of his hair and the smell of the puppy breath on his neck.
The feel of his worn out t-shirt, the fabric screaming to die.
I just looked at her hair and her eyes in the sunlight, and how I thought it was my grandmother that was driving me to the pond.
I just felt the koy fish slide across my rigid whirled fingerprint on my index finger. Slime covering my nails and getting under my cuticles.
I heard the toy car collapse on the floor and break into tiny pieces in front of the dust pan, I heard him cry once again.

Momentarily, I will come to think, that all of this; is no good.

Trail Mix

Life's big long winding trails leading to the Netherlands and the footsteps taken into the puddles, the puddles that lead to ponds and ponds that lead to fall leaves that lead to them sticking onto your little ass and getting into your underpants is squishier than slugs under the wheels of my bicycle.

C o n s c i e n c e

is the swear word in racing through the every backroads of my brain, taking the trail to the person who tells me that it's right and that it's wrong and that it's horrible or absurd or okay. Alright. Okay. Sure. Nope. Definitely Not. Yes. No. Just Kidding.

He'll never say it but he knows it's right. I'm not crazy. He knows everything that's going on. He knows that action doesn't equal amusement, and amusement just takes the change out of your denim pocket on your left breast. With the pinned memories all over your threads. The memories, you'll never live them down. The hair that dropped to the floor the day you shaved off your hair along with the dead skin cells, flaking through the air going up my nose and leaving me with a part of you for the rest of my life.

The alcohol on the cotton swabs/the cotton swabs juiced with alcohol going into your eyeballs/your bare eyeballs/itburnsdoesn'tit?

Save as a draft? A draft? Do I have to?

circles
^
talking
^
i'm.

Bury my face in the Midwestern dirt, along with the cactus of guilt and the butterfly of lies and the fox of fun and the armadillo of hate.

Sinking in deeper, Scared of the backrooms of my closet.

Stop, please.
[[[[[[[[O K A Y]]]]]]]]]

Dryer sheets

Nostalgia is facing me right now with the scents and the voices,
listening to MCR and singing to it bring me way back.
With the eraser and the cigarette butt in my hand, and the flem in my mouth
sitting just there on my tongue.
Flannels and pants and cold legs.
loose lips may sink ships
or my head into the hottest, scolding water so I can finally stop thinking.
I'm scared of myself, and I'm fearless of what comes out of my mouth, and so happy that I can think my own thoughts and I am me and not anybody else.
Rules are shit and so is everybody that follows them, because we're still mentally sane inside of all these organizations and establishments and music and teachers and corporate offices.
We can all think the thoughts that nobody will ever ever see unless you decide to verbalize them and share them with the whole world. In this icy climate and the late buses
I believe
we'll all make it with scary or normal thoughts.
BECAUSE WE ARE ALL OUR OWN PERSON.
So refreshing, yet still scary.

It's so funny
how forgetful we can be sometimes.
How utterly insane we all are
how many brain cells we are all really missing.
Why we don't even care that we're burning
drowning
sinking
alive with this.
It's all just so funny that we love looking at the clock
to see what time the future will become present.
It's funny the way we don't want to listen to music on the bus
out loud
and obnoxiously
with heads turning
nodding
exploding.
It's all so funny
that I forgot almost everything.
So did you
and you
and you.
Cheers! To the brains we once and never had!
Cheers! To the dusty old piano in my living room!
Cheers! To the brown hair and the fruit!
Cheers! To all of this dying!

F U C K I N G CHEERS!