Buried by insane deities
that live in single cell domains.
Insecure in the best ways,
holding on blindly without courage,
not brave, not adequate.

Pick up your textbooks and
learn how to fly with
your toes on the ground.

If you go searching for dinosaurs,
or particle physics,
you'll miss everything so terribly
gorgeous and lovely
about today.

And about today;

Mistaken for nobody.
Everybody's no one.
Fractured yet generically.
They think I am a
Thoughtful
&
Slow talker.

I was born in the furnace,
and grew up halfway homeless.
Tough doesn't mean strong.
Thick skinned, maybe.

Lets make a theory;
If we're made of the same matter from
the beginning of time, we have to find out
where that matter has been. Like a recipe;

Coffin Nails.
Bullets.
Salt Water.
Broken Umbrellas.
Cherry Blossoms.
Burnt Plastics.
Lipstick.
Mountains.
Etc. Etc.

I rang in the new year alone and sometimes
she says, "smoking would be better."
Maybe I'll pick up smoking.

"literally stop talking."
Asks if I speak in non-sequitors,
because "normal" conversation
bores the **** out of me.

Doesn't feel pain, barely sleeps
mostly numb, doesn't sleep, doesn't care.

Haven't seen many other people.
Smiles a lot. Breathes deeply.
Hates so much.

Mostly alone.
Doesn't mind.

I want to speak in poetry
about how when people say
they'll be here for you,
they usually lie.

So much has been lost to
a cold war of passive aggression,
passions in long succession,
maybe spite.

Stings like alcohol on a fresh wound.

We all get here eventually, maybe,
I'd throw us all away to just be
the last one laughing.
The last one on top of this pile of demons
with a massive crown of scabs
fit for some king monster
&
large beating disgusting
wings.

This empire needs no throne.

If you had to get that drunk to **** me like you wanted it,
I think we have serious issues between us.

I don't think we'll talk about it.

Naming objects more affectionately than people,
something stupid I hate to see in others.
Mother Brain stirs the ***, and Kraid
growls infinitely, or purrs in context.

Cheap and lonely, dressed well for someone
who used to be a teenager, but in shambles and
letting it all go to **** freely and crying in joy
at incoming apocalypse.
Nuclear, biological, biblical, bubonic, revolutionary[?].

Sleep in filth, gravity feels like the proper force
we mistook for the human soul.
The center of balance is what we thought was a third eye.
We're ******* idiots is why;
we thought dreams were some kind of heaven.
The sun was god. The earth was flat. Miracles happened.

If we're being honest, we use superstition as a crutch
to elevate beyond our ****** means and pretend
everything is going to be better than what it is.
If we didn't believe in love, and god, and karma, and ghosts,
we'd all go insane from the ******* sanity.
We eat **** to wash our palette for human flesh.

We poison ourselves to imagine we live like royals.

You stopped responding at my second
jesus **** joke, but I didn't care,
and I was the one at work. Aces.
Even vacation is stressful for you,
although I'll admit my humor isn't great,
but amongst friends I'm hysterical.

I only have about a handful,
and they're all ******* weird as me
except for a couple or several.

I'm not a big fan of most people I root for,
I'm terribly sarcastic, and if I love you
I might want you to fall on your ******* nose.
It's a fifty-fifty split,
or seventy to thirty.
I'm a ravenous cannibal when
I put words down to something tangible.

I'm also late to work or early,
and all my friends get my friends jobs
right before we leave or get fired
or get too poor to stay where we are.
It's a horribly satisfying way to live
but a ******* way to want to die.

I'm a coward and a liar with great hygiene,
I liken myself akin to the noble cockroach,

because I'm a nuclear survivor!
And the post-apocalypse started
right after Hiroshima, and now they
watch or **** everyone,
and people police people.
If you can't afford the rent stay with strangers
or starve to death on the streets while
middle class lunatics watch you evaporate
"rationally" as bystanders in a new world war.

It's not even a subtle genocide.

Dive kicked off the aspirin,
overdosed on vitamin D.
Up all night, celebrating,
properly sober;
properly hydrated,
properly fed.

Stomach ache from experimenting foods,
sriracha on salad and chocolate and eggs
threw it all over everything like "HADOUKEN!",
there's information floating on the wind everywhere
and most of it is ***** and cats,
people saying, "hey" and "yo" and "whats up?"

And I'm addicted to Tom Waits,
and probably ***, and probably the internet,
and probably video games and thinking,
but thinking about offing myself.
Genesis does what nintendon't
and lately every modern gaming console
simply just www.WillNot.
I guess we're all fantasizing till we stop.

Also, punk and jazz will not mix well,
my grandfather wrote me from the grave
just to say so.
He says the rent isn't so bad,
but the landlord is the ******* devil,
although there's a room for me to move in.
I just might if I don't get medicated,
for right now I'm whimsical
and singing up and off key.

All these zombies are feeling my vibe
with their teeth and fingernails,
and affection never felt so good
from such a friendly crowd.
I don't get out much anymore,
I'm slipping into old habits
more often because I'm lonely
and melancholic and bored.

It's all right or whatever.