It's raining.
And people are dying.
Somewhere. Everywhere.
Nowhere. On television.
And I don't care.
And their life is static
stuck in the waistband
of some dude's underwear.
And he scratches his *****.
He's shocked and ****.
He calls himself a "God".
He sent his son to die
as a guilt trip
and to spike book sales.
But he's scratching his *****.
And his wrist brushes
against his waistband.
He's pinched by the shock
of electic death.

It's raining.
I'm sitting on the edge
of my bed.
Closing my eyes
and pretending
my feet are hanging off
a shopping cart.
My parents are pushing me
and I'm facing my mother.
She looks young enough
to avoid
   every thing.

I don't care. I don't care.
There are snares
  hitting the cymbals.
And there's
a jazz musician. He's
nodding his
   head
back and
   forth.
   Back
and forth.

I don't care. I don't care.

It's raining.
And we zoom in on God.
And, clearly, I have a vendetta.
Have I been subtle?
He answers, "No."
Did I meet a jazz musician?
He shrugs, "Yeah, I guess."
And the room slows down
to a jumbled vibration.
And he smiles. Smiling.
Smiley-smile smiles.
There is no ******
like the second hand.

It's raining.
I don't care. I don't ******* care.
My dad yelling.
You have daddy issues!!
You ******* *****!!
And the room slows down
to a jumbled vibration.
What's true is a tumor
and it grows and grows.

It's raining.
Music is the shout
in a raindrop.
The wrists we forfeit
is the church of
an eternal solitude.
And we is I
and the mixture of
animal-speak
that swallows my
   brain.

It's raining.
There are joggers
in the park.
Their feet are smashing
the cement.
Slow down.
They don't care.

Then seven billion
joggers enter the park
and smash the cement.
My family is unearthed:
the swallowed inertia
of an undying thought.

It's raining.

She dragged a steak knife
  across her forehead.
I said,
   What the **** is your--
Hey, we all have problems.
She killed herself with
the memory
   of a system.
Everyone was begging.
Beg. Beg. Beg.
   Make me a star!!
I want to be
   Kurt Cobain!!
So, they dragged blades
and did smack.
Tweeted lyrics
and took selfies
with a poster of--

But she was never alive, right?
There can't be a her
if there's a me.
But I suppose what it condensed
is bound to
  shoot out into
itty
    bitty
stars.

Good ******* Christ,
redeem the men and women
slaughtering genitals.
Grinding against
  the hole in society.

Are you ******* serious?
  Oh my god,
I will die if he takes off
   his skin!!
What a hunk.

It was all elaborate
and people were saying
  "droll".
That's a thing.
Everyone was ******* lame.

Then, the men stripped.
One, Jupiter.
One, Titan.
And what was stopped
was a hurried whisper,
traveling the confines
of the classroom.
  And the men
clothed. And the instruments
  unused.
Sketches ceased before creation.
Paint without purpose.
What a Greek tragedy.
Boo-*******-hoo.

What I could only imagine
a slurry of too many words
aiming at my brain.
The mention of us all.

You don't understand.
*******.

She dragged a steak knife
across her forehead.
I said,
   What the **** is your problem?

Eyes covered with goggles
Head covered with a cap
Nose filled with chlorine
Body wrapped with a suit
Hands clutching the board
Ears listening for the whistle

Body leaps into the water
Finger tips meet the water
Arms and legs moving fast

swimming.

Body aches,
muscles pull.
Feeling empty,
never full.

Mind races,
thoughts fly.
Tears falling,
hearts soaring high.

Caught in a moment,
lost in time.
Addicted to it a feeling,
a temporary high.

You're on top of the world,
then lower than your feet.
Feel like a millionaire,
but lose everything in a heartbeat.

Up and Down,
round and round.
Never being able
to find solid ground.

Aching for freedom,
but a slave to the rush.
Screaming in anguish
at the power of your lust.

It's hard to break free
when the high is so sweet.
But be careful to find it
for you may lose your feet.

Loneliness and depression are like parasites,
adapting to their new host bodies
They will cling to anything that it can.
Something with an open wound,
someone weak in the flesh - susceptible.
For these are their preferred feasting grounds,
and I’m their favorite company.

of all the days
and timing too
you're no longer
the man i knew
it takes a while
they it's true
to process life
to pass it through
the brain is such
a funny thing
forgotten song
but tries to sing
you do not cease
to inspire me
your needs will
never tire me
although different
and sad to see
you'll always be
Dad to me

Eyes are not just eyes.
They hold stories of futures ,
seas and forest trees. Takes
a few minutes for one to see.
Look in your lovers eyes. Take
a moment don't just observe
their eye colour. Search for
stories and lost history. Look
hard and you'll find answers
for unsolved mysteries. Scars
of the past. Gardens bursting
into life. You'll find hope ,
new beginnings and a cozy home.
And if your lucky enough all
you'll see will be endless
amounts of love* ~

Now you know what you don’t want
You know what you want
Now you know who you don’t want

Where are you going?
Do you want to be wanted
Where are we going

We all want to be wanted