More *****
To make me more fun
And let me enjoy life more.

More gym
To let me be healthier
And have a more positive
Self-image.

More work
To let me enjoy the
More complex pleasures of life
And afford some luxuries.

More life
To live
And enjoy.

Maybe I should take up smoking.
If I smoked
I could have a reason to go outside
And escape
And sit in the warmth.
I would satisfy my oral fixation
I would satisfy my black-lung fixation.

You're an anomaly.
Your frizzy hair
And strange birthmarks
Give off a less than fantastic impression
To the shallow.
You are soft spoken
You are obsessed with fan fiction.

I hear that you write...

I know that you are
A home schooled super-christian.
Maybe that's part of the reason
For my lack of understanding.

You are an alien
In my socially awkward agnostic world.

They say this pill will help me sleep.
My soul it will let me keep.
Yet I toss and turn for hours on end
Trying my energy to spend.
I lay here in this soft warm bed
And try to empty out my head.
I thought these pills would help me sleep
Instead they only make me weep.

I feel empty.
Tired?
Something.
He just left
And it doesn’t matter.
It almost feels like
He’s always around
So when he leaves
It often feels like nothing.
My eyes stay half-open
My brain stays in static
She whistles
She talks
She reads fan fiction
I sit here
Waiting for my Internet connection to work
And waiting to return to existence.

"Hehehe, I'm a poet
And I didn't even know it!"
Haha, I'm a poet
And I'm gonna ******* you with a can of bugspray.

I like to read my own poems.

Not because they're particularly beautiful
I know better than to believe that
But because they remind that I'm human.
I have emotions
I have thoughts
I have fears.

They consume me
Because they let me know I'm real.
I do exist.