the things I would do
just to have a chance to renew
my emotional palette

if I could I would take the past
and create a masterpiece

full of shapes I'll never see again
all those blurred lines
and dark hues
that led me to
my permanent shade of blue

I'd hang it high up on the wall
and each time I pass I'd be sure
to see and not relive my past views

gradual buildup
of bull-****
now all I can see
is through it
and all I want to do
is ruin it
all the flawed accounts with fake people
I can't stand it
I can no longer contribute
to the scene of social media fiends
who do anything
simply to be seen

relinquish your dependence
wave goodbye to all delinquents
then find you become in sync
with everything you feel and think

1 a.m. and I'm in
2 deep because it's
3 strike outs and
4 the first time it's
5 times harder than I ever expected when

1 time it all seemed
2 good to be true hearing those
3 words that were
4 me and only me but
5 thousand times apparently loses luster, still I miss the

1 love that brought us
2 gether for those long
3 years going strong
4 each other but
5 months was much too long to wait without

1 last chance
2 make everything
3 hundred times better than ever be-
4 I now would have to drive
5 hours just to look you in the eyes instead of
6 minutes through the old neighborhood to
7 Valleywood Drive where we
8 tortellini in the rain and by
9 p.m. each night we've already forgot-
10 the demons of the day in each others arms

something about a face
with eyes of blue
makes it easy to assume
what the mouth says is true
calming color
quick to soothe you
but makes you blind
to what's consumed you

never have nor will I ever
know another woman
more certified than her
at alluring

makes no difference
if it is prey or play
I can assure you
she's magnetic
both positive and negative poles
have been perfected
to make it seem
like you're the opposite end

nowadays
there is no substance
aside from the ones I inhale
no core, no passion
pseudo-people have prevailed
no possible way to unveil
the food of truth has long gone stale

too much upkeep
all I dream of is sleep
these social standards
are temporary cancers
only dissipating
when I count sheep
days fleeting
without eating
still I'm always choking
on repeated scenes
only relying
on things that aid in dying
it is no way to live
being so set on ending
when I didn't even begin yet