I will work I will work
I will work
I will work
I will work
I will sleep
I will awake
I will work
I will write some poems
And make some art
And write some music
Some people might like it
Some won't
I will lift weights
I will punch the air
There will be a few women
There will be no children
I will be rich
I can do whatever the **** I want
I eat a salad
I die
It's  october
another person dies
and another
and the tree just stares
and mountain laughs
We all laugh
the fetus on the table laughs

tired of stories and 'real life'
I want to read something that makes me forget I'm alive, something to make me feel kinship with an ant.
Something to strip me of my pride.
Something to make feel unborn and unloved
, Something to make feel like a grain of sand
Something to make me feel like the sleeping vagrant,
Or the guts of a rabbit on a sidewalk.
Something cold,
Something like a universe

she lives behind the wall she eats the flies

It doesn't hurt

I'll take the one on the left.

People have too much hope

Salmon

Crayons

Brunch

Roaches

String cheese
Mm
Mm
We
The
Yy
Sphincter
Bb
Jk
Cc
Vv
Bb
Mm
Dung
Zz
Cc
Vv
­Bb
Bb
Gg
Hh
D's
Rabies
Gg
Jk
Jk
Jk
Mm
Yy
Ff
Cc
Nn
Mm
Mm
Vv
Cc
Cc
­Cc
Cc
Cc
Cc
Bb
B
Bn
Disease
Mm
Mm
N
N
B
B
C
C
C
C
C
C
C
C
C
C
C
C­
C
Disease
Mm
Mm
Nn
Bb
Vv
Bb
Bb
Jk
Jk
Hh
Hh
Ff
Tt
Tt
Uu
Uu
Ii
Ii
­Ii
Pp
Pp
Rr
Tt
Reduction

My ******* head hurts. My eyes hurt.
My head hurts,
Headache.
My back hurts, my shoulders hurt.
My eyes hurt.
My ear is clogged.
My foot hurt

I never knew how to swim. I picked up the phone and went to the beach.
There was a jellyfish splattered on the tarred sand; it stung my toes.
I went in the blue, and the waves crashed over my back.
The white sparkled around me.
There was a sun, and there was a towel and castles in the distance.
I motioned for some mustard, for the hotdog of course.
Someone played guitar, and we all posed for a picture, and I said goodbye to the seagul.
I washed the sand from my pants and played Gameboy in the car.
A short drive home, yet I still fell sound asleep

The same **** over and over.
Pull the gun and shoot the moon.
The parade walks by, 14 nickles, still it rains.
***** knees but God is a friend
Kneel to your master .
Sun,
It.
Kites in black culdesacs, winding.

I wanted to be a dancer, I became a nun.
I watch jeapordy.
I sit on a.golden ladder.
There are 33 choices.
****, or
Lucidity.
Don't be boring. Please

All we have to our names are flies in a *** of stew and *** in our subway
sandwich
We kiss leaches and we pray to idols.
Step off the ladder, there is an
eternal light, like deniro in mean streats.
Capiche

I really love when it rhymed. Now check out my link.
"YoungPARROT95$"
help a ***** out blood, smash that like, smash that subscribr.. lemme **** that weimer. Please like me.
Please like my stuff. My self worth is derived from other people liking my material
Does art exist if there are no spectators

I awoke to my neighbor pouring cement in a pothole in my driveway.
He gave me a ciggarette and he asked if I've been ******* all day because I woke up late.
I chuckled and said yes twice, and we talked about the guy across the street who has loud *** with a ******* and I finished my smoke and gave him an AK round I found since he has a large arsenal. Then
the other neighbor Andrew with his meaty calves and who is a 7th day Adventist started approaching.
I said I didn't want to talk about stocks and went back to bed.
Now I'm drinking coffee. Now my day is almost over.

Is it worth writing if you can't be yourself?
If you're afraid of the outcome, if you be yourself?
Is it worth it to be perfect if it means being fractured in your self perception?
Are you writing as a means to fill a character role, or is really you writing?
You might lose the teen girls with your raunchiness, and the old strigid traditionalists with your erratic lines, but dont lose yourself in the process.
It's okay to ****, it's okay to be messy and uncouth, but please don't lie to yourself

Too astute. Honey in a jar. Loaded with cement and tablets of oxy. 4 fingers and 3 amputations, she lays in agony, curled up and her eylids clasped. Red door full opens and so do the sojourners into the red lobby. They spelled your name wrong. They spelled it backwards, and now you must go back into the light little girl, back to get your wings, back to tip toe in silence. Without tears

Go away i don't want to work I don't want to wake up
I dont want to brush my teeth, shower, comb my head, climb into a car and drive for an hour.
I dont want to talk, I don't want to smile, I dont care that you broke up with your girl, I don't care that you're dying, we're all dying.
I don't want coffee, I don't want ciggarettes, I dont want alcohol, I dont want acid, I don't want head in a bathroom stall, I don't want a sandwich nor a massage,
I dont want sunlight, or sound, or
Love, or hate,
Or compromise or
Sorrow, or ridicule or saturation of my soul.

I want you to stop changing me

the damage is done, the wound
is gushing with blood.
the pants are
filled
with ***** matter.

the mouth is vomiting
into a ditch at 3am. please god, tell me I matter.

please god,
who are you,
who are you,

touch me,
touch me in my ****,

touch me in my ****.

feel my *****,
feel my *******.
I want to love you. lord my savior, I *** on your face, and you drink it.
my lord
and savior.

death on a cross is like a jelly
sandwich
after dawn.

no one has to cry.

please god.
let me watch the ****** in
2002,
when I was still fragrant, when I still felt good.
when I still played stick games with my friend nick. when I still listened to slipknot's duality
and Marilyn's beautiful people.

I want to be whole.

I want to be a person without the past. the stick in the mud, the last dance at the wedding when everyone is watching.
please help me .


I don't need
a party,
but I need a crowd.

blue tin skies after dawn,
two few to know.

love is like a box of explosives,
you know what you'll get.

paintball in 2006.

where did it all go? when did I get old? when did I lose touch? when did it all start to not matter
?


pave the way forward,
we are here.

I see you,
and I want the best for us.  please, please, please. let me believe in love for once.





once;  like a nova

I don't CARE

I wander through the ancient
gardens,
I **** the ****** in her little slit.

I burn the temple,

I pray to the last priest on judgement day. **** my ******* with a 22inch
cactus.

I don't care.
you don't matter.
******* all.

you all mean nothing to me.
         Ill die alone,

but at least I won't be afraid.


last embrace.
must I dream and always see your face.

lover

lover

leave me for good.          leave

me please.

Elliot smith

you're a genius,

youre a
poem
that doesn't need to rhyme,     a thought without contrivance.

I know you didn't **** yourself,

but the papers need a headline.  a poet can never rest

dont send the letters

don't send the smiley faces
don't send the thumbs up

don't send the 'yes'
or the 'no'

jump off the bridge and dive in the lake and blow up in the sun.

junior
has glasses
and he spells
sugar

S U G A R

sugar,
like god. like satan, like the immortal ghost.
who hasn't
dreamed of fire?

satan please forgive me.

''I love nothing"

but you are nothing. questions and more answers. only answers for your questions. there are no more
secrets.
there are no more
consonants.

there are only constants.
battered with a sledgehammer in the night sun, blue freckled
crescent dreamer.

I pray to you,
so no one else feels the same.  it *****. please don't let anyone feel this

miserable.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.  
.                    ­          .              .

when you bury me,
just play motion picture soundtrack.

I want to sleep in the dirt,
I want to smell daffodils. I want to stare at the blue sky. I want to burn in the heat. I want to play with my toy. I want to
be here.
I want to be the now.
play
saturns children
by electric wizard.

play
sunday morning by velvet underground. give me love, so I can pretend that it mattered.

you are so

precious/..//.././/././././././..//..//.././\\


precious

dirt in my eyes, black in my lung, tar in my soul, **** in my heart,
**** in my brain,
**** in my mouth,
**** in my hands.

You talk to me a little
''how are you baby?"
" I don't know
I feel like someone is cutting through my neck with a rusty
spatula.it ******* *****''

''well I'm sorry to hear that''
''you're always sorry,
when are you ever going to be sincere?"

she rubs her arm
"it's not my fault you're always miserable"

I look at the light,
I agree, and there's no real responding to it.
"well ******* then"

the door slams and she leaves.   I throw a brick at the wall and make a huge hole for the spiders to climb in.
I awake with bites all over me,
the lantern swings in the wind. wizard of oz is on. Why is it on? it's so old.

she comes back

"I forgot my shoes"

she picks them up and proceeds to look at me, while a tear rolls down her cheek.

"like I said, I'm sorry"

the door closes, and a rush of cool air blows in, and my hair stands still, and the arm produces prickly bumps.

I don't want to be here any longer.
I don't want to watch this movie.
I walk outside.

I walk 13 miles and get to a bus stop. I give him my $5 and get on. I sit down, and 13 hours later, I'm somewhere else.  I'm somewhere else, foreign,
new,
scary,
devastating,
but still the chill persists.   let me run. please. let me escape. let me go

personal
like a dog rolling in ****,
like a clown
******* in a car in the middle of New York.
like a bug digesting fruit after a heatwave
like a child pecking the eyes out of a zebra carcass
like
a womb
producing 6 stillborn
babies,
like a drink
with too much sugar,
like a movie
with too much dialog,
like a poem with too many words, like a song with too much melody,
like a dance
with too much swing
,
like a laugh with too much bellowing,
like sobbing with too much sadness,
like a  god with too much
compassion,
like a man
with too much time, like an orphan with too much love,  like a broken record
with too many
revolutions.

I want to feel your neck. I want to see your blue eyes glistening in the night
air.
I want to feel real.
I want to be the perfect being.   like the flowing river, as it cuts through the canyon.
We will be
  there singing, and it will echo for years to come.  uncompromised beauty. let me
dream

I never saw someone so angry.
It must be true. No-one ever wanted to just go on a hike with you and bake brownies and
play uno with you before with no expectations.

I didn't even kiss you until the 3rd date, because you were too drunk, and I felt like it would be scummy.

& now I see the rebounding dorks hitting you up,
saying ''when we hanging bae?''

I hope you have fun. I hope you treat the next guy better, and I really mean it, because you made me feel like a ******* chump.
you made me feel like I wasn't enough when  I am absolutely enough.
You made me feel invincible
and then proceeded to break me down to nothing.
  I  won't be
a victim,       no longer.       I won't be a  fool.  Thank you, for the
lust

I can't enjoy peoples' company without being ****** up out of mind, drunk high etc.
I thought maybe it was a phase.
But I can't stand the parties. They are so boring. I am boring. I play darts anyway,
and smoke 100 cigarettes and **** the pipe.
it feels good at the moment.
but I am fake. I wish I didn't feel pain. I wish I felt love for my species. I wish someone knew my favorite color and cared

this is your last goodbye
this is your last note in the sand

your last puff of smoke swirling in the charcoal night air
the last smack of your lip
the last
cube in your drink
the last static frequency absolved from your television,
the last text from your phone
the last sigh from your lung
the last
shirt from your back
the last
laugh from your soul
the last
kiss in the grass,
the last tear as you pull away.
the last promise,
the last excuse,
the last wish,
the last exit.
the last journey to somewhere where the shadows are kind.  last goodbye ,
last  goodbye. it's over

writing when you have nothing to say,

is like talking to a pile of dirt.

I have nothing to say right now so I'm talking to a pile of dirt.
I'll let someone else find meaning.

Please do, for my sake.

Read between the lines, and look for the hidden art. it is very well hidden

It's like putting your hand to a flame when you're sitting in a barren room.
My brain is rotting and all my relationships turn to **** but I'm ready for the pain.
Crying my eyes out and getting drunk and slashing myself made for some dark miserable moments but they were so impactful and poetic in their own way.
Now I rot and there's no sorrow to distract me.
A cold dusty fog envelops my heart and I slip into apathy.
Void of pain and emotion all together, it is truly death. Not being. I want to live. I want someone to care. I want someone to love me. I want someone to hate me. I want someone here

As I write i feel the humming in my head like a hummingbird pecking fruit. I hear my tinnitus and I hear a running faucet. I hear the distinct sound of nothing and I lay here on my bed with my mesh shorts
I have nothing to say but I've simply reflected on my life quite a bit. I need to make a load of changes. I won't spam poems of despair if I'm not actively making an effort. I have a fair idea how this will all end, but the effort is worthwhile nonetheless.

I have $55
I walk into a grocery store and buy lemons

I walk into a post office and hear hissing

I sold the old stolen bike.

I am a prayer to noone
Battered and bruised but the pain is a reminder of my persistence.

I have moved on from toxic relationships and that has left me with no relationships. Maybe I'm the problem. But I'm not giving up. I'm giving in
To my better self

Stuck inside drowning and not even a crowd to watch my demise.
If I'm going to go out I at least want others to see. Im tired of being stifled. I'm tired of being one of billions. I'm missing my tribe. My kin. Who has my back anymore? Anyone other than a meaningless acquabtence?
I'm stuck in the tomb and I'm losing my humanity. My emotions are being filed down. At least hate used to sustain me but I have even lost that. Stop ******* sqaushing me down and sqaushing me in a ******* box. WHO THE **** ARE YOU TO DICTATE MY LIFE? Who shackled me and tied me down? I will fight back I will not take anymore. I will not accept this fate. You killed my kin and robbed me of my ancestral spirit and now I am just a wild animal. I am no longer human. I am a force of nature

I can't write I can't write I can't write I can't write they took my brain they took my brain and my soul i am nothing we are nothing I pass the dirt road once again

I have never felt worse. The pain is so intense. I can't write. I don't want to write. I can't compose. I don't want to compose. Art has failed me. Life has failed me. I have no feelings. I have finally died. I am truly dead. Nothing matters anymore and it likely never did. I can't believe this is it

.

Im followed by the flies. I killed about 16 of them. I bury them in toilet paper then flush them. I drink my water and sit on my bed. Today was a blur. my coworker is dying and it bums me out. I dont really like him but I dont like to see needless suffering. And other things are getting me down. I am lonely lately and I have no real ambition anymore. I look outside and see Saturn. I see the millennia of refracted light. I see the boulders on the hill and the clouds in the distance. I see the tree still standing because it needs to. I will try to stand too

Happy for me is not being crippingly depressed. Im happy. I can make pancakes at 2am and be ok. I'm ok. I will sleep fine. But I still think of you

I brushed my teeth and made coffee and looked at my phone. then looked at my phone. Then looked at my phone then curled some weights and looked at my phone. Then I called someone on my phone while looking at my phone. Then I looked outside and saw a moth by a lamp

The nightmare
The simulation
The infection
The asphyxiation
The infibulation
The inebriation
The tyrannical grip
The hammer on your ******
The needle in your eyeball
The wrench up your prostate
The boot up your face
The finger in your mouth
The bomb in your place of comfort, after a long day doing nothing at all, just being.
The shoelace untied.
The brain with too much **** folded in your heart with no escape.
You want to ******* EXPLODE
BOOM
BOOM
BOOM
BOOM
bang
Sprawled out like bugs.
You wanted sone simple understanding, you wanted a biscuit with tea and maybe a back massage, but it's all too late.
Too late for the dreamer, and the 'talky' kid
Soon enough it will be over. I dont want to be anything or anyone.
I want quiet,
No words, no words no more words. No words and no resolve because there never is

Do t forget to smash that subscribe button nigeers

I keep telling them that it passed away 10 years ago.
It's a hollow husk now. It doesn't know its own name, nor the names of people it meets and keeps as an acquaintance years later.
It goes to a job and lives below the poverty line and takes 2 dhits everyday to squeeze in 5 mins of pay.
It buys the same protein and milk and bread everyday and watches videos.
It sits on a noisy bed scratching its *** and looking at dust.
Females do not like it, nor do the species as a whole.
It is useless, should've been aborted slop.
The train wont quit whistling.
Dead is too easy,
There's only a note left

Hello hello hello. I am awake, I dts d at the foot of the bed a d gobble oranges for my baby boy.
I was a dancer
You were a baker at the sqaut outside Denver.
I am push a coin in my head and flip to 43 inches below celcius.
"Noone cares". Well noone should. I feel ill
I told you yesterday, or actually I told noone
I feel ill and might like
Bit off my face I had a Jesus meltdown
Pray for them
Pray for them all
Pray for me too
Me too
Me too
I walk into a blue room

Everything will be taken away,
Everything you loved a hollow shell, everything that made you feel whole a blank smear, everything that loved you , a black smudge,
Your heart in a drawer
Locked away,
Your brain behind glass,
Your soul in a cloud, your
Face in a pool,
Your mouth on a jury,
Your friend in a cell,
Your child on an auction, your faith in a bag of money,
Your dreams in a funeral.

You will still be here, breathing, but not necessarily alive

I cried for you
like a little baby, and here I am at 5am writing a poem for you because I can't stop thinking about you and how you touched me in a such a profound way.
I'm not even angry anymore, and you deserve most of it, but it just seems so abrupt and cold this end.
I can see you online witg your posts, but you're not here. You have fundamentally vanished, decased, erased from my life, and I can't accept it.
There's too much invested, but you're gone,
And I'm gone too.
And you're heading off to some brilliant future with a newly kindled love in a city with potential, and I'm still here.
I can't just spontaneously love like you can or others can. I take ******* years.
I dont let anyone in. Noone knows me, not even my mother.
I will still be sitting here and I want to reach out.
I'm tired of the failures, and you leaving just amplifies my feeling of worthlessness.
I can't keep being alone, and a recluse. It is killing me,
I can't keep hiding, I can't keep dreaming,
I need to be free.

Free by any means

Poetry and art only matters if it's popular and it has a little thumbs up. Because people need to know that others like something to make up their mind. They couldn't risk being judged for liking something that isn't herd approved because then they risk their acceptance in the herd. it's why they like things they truly dont like and hate things that are blatantly true and slapping them in the face with existential meaning. But I don't give a uck I'm doing this for myself, I just wish I had a broader platform to terrorize humanity and I'll find a way

Noone cares about a man's suffering. His death is just another excuse for you to parade your victimhood, to show how you've been hurt.
Whatever. I can sit and stare at a wall for hours and think about a few memories that dont cause me bitterness, like watering a plant or washing my hands or drinking juice.
I just dont know why im so caught up with this one person, maybe because they're living the life i want without having done anything particularly complicated. And was I that defective?
Was this self hate instilled at birth? Who taught me to hate myself, was it the world or just me.
I don't know so I don't ask I just wish there were more happy moments. You can't force happiness like ****,you can't squeeze it into submission. I can only try, and do the handful of things I feel are right and live without regret and resentment, but don't tell me I didn't suffer, and
Don't say you cared because I ******* saw you laughing when I was at my lowest and I just wish you could feel it for a day because you would have an 'attitude' too you ******* *****. Go spread yourself some more and call it "making love".

I need to sleep but this light is blinding me and art keeps talking. I will be better tomorrow. I'll try to be better so I can be god and I will be god because none of you exist

I ******* everyday
Everyday
Not at work though.usually at night
I watch movies too.
I should start reading again.
I have a really ****** life which persists despite my best efforts to improve.
Systemic poverty and growing up in a household full of ******. I won't make excuses. I just despise you ******* ***** who had everything given to you on a pladder and are still insufferable with your excuses. Fuccbois and Sarahs and Emma's, decay on the excrement pile.
I will succeed , if success is contentedness. Pain can only last so lo g before it becomes your normal.
If your whole life is having your intestines slowly wrung from your body and your testicles desheathed eventually things will equalize.
Hell isn't a state of mind, it's just a nightmare that thinks it's a dream , and I woke up too soon, you'll be there too and with a certain someone

2 candles here and a child's liver
A glass of glue and dry *****. Grindr bears saying hi now and you better tell them no I'm watching TV with my cancelled subscription and that's not good enougj. And do people even still read poetry besides edgy girls?
Will I still be unhappy after I've vomited 12567 times?  
A d will I still clutch the hand that insists on gagging me a d suffocating me whilst I count clouds?
I will still be dead and rotting in a dirt mound and so will you, but you pretend you won't. Instead we insist on occupying ourselves with mindless consumerism and shallow entertainment until we can't think anymore. I'm part of the problem, im distracting from what should be the goal, to shake you violently into convulsion until the spirit fills you and spits you into the abyss where there
are no more habits or fears. Just a state of being. Like clay half molded,
Neither happy nor Content, just clay. just.        clay

You're only better than me in the sense that you can talk a better game

And only in the sense that you can spread your cheeks wide.
I see through you

Your philanthropy is narcissism in disguise.
You **** in a bush just like rest. I'm taking it back.

You are nothing and Meant nothing.
I am the same mote of star dust as you. Crumbs of death, but keep playing your game.
I'll be here when you've finally seen the glass in its perfect place, cracked

it's only been hours
and she's posting her new love,

she's posting pictures of her 'boo',
what the ****
is Wrong with her?

I sit in the dark
and smoke cigarettes and drink and pop xannies after months of sobriety,

I bleed in the dark,
I listen to sad music.
I try to ignore it,   but I'm too weak for it. 1000 years ago she would have been DEAD,

but today you tolerate it,

I don't want happiness for her, if it's only to spite me.

I drive around,
and walk around shirtless,   and size up every stranger. I'm broken a cliche,
a cliche of the tough guy man, but I write poetry and write music like a ******.

my life is ****,
and there will be other girls, but I'm hurt so I express it. you really ******* hurt me and I can't keep fighting this.

I haven't cried so much in my life, why do you do this.


I plant
a strawberry in the yard,
I buy a coke and make some rice. I don't care about myself,
I just float on like everyone else.

nothing makes sense.  she's happy and getting ****** by someone else, I sit here cold;
it doesn't make sense.

I will not be a goof.

I walk on,
walk the hill. I pet my dog,   I plant a new rose.  I count the stars,

I walk on.

walk on, walk on, walk on, walk on,  you will  get something better if you
dont try

Friday I'm in love,

Tuesday

im in dread,

wednsay
dont even say,

thursay

is another day,

Saturday
why,

sunday,

go away.

today is just a cloud, a smoggy
OC
blue bird in the dust.

I touch the shoulder,

so many dead people that I could cry. another neck to weep on, another back to caress, another
cheek to kiss,
another hand to hold---
we walk back to the hill.

dawn in the early hours.

   my  first kiss,  your big green eyes, in the stars,  I hold you tight and the sun smiles.

I walk back so happy,
and the car coughs, and the house just laughs. I want to be somewhere else.      I want to be
where the leaves don't turn brown,
in the ashen fall.


behind the gray fog, where love isn't just a meme, where love isn't just a word,

a word for shmucks. I want to feel again. feel your heartbeat;

but for now I count to ten and there's no-one to blame.

back to the street clogged adolescent suburbia. buy what you can, fill what can't be filled,
you are
still here


here


here beyond words in the   lonely wood