Is there love out there for someone like me?
As cliche as a small excerpt like this might be
I can't help but wonder
Will there ever be someone who sees me like lightening and my voice like thunder
Following you around like your own personal little cloud of rain
A muse who understands my pain
Its not easy to believe in someone
This i know
For my past endeavors have told me so
I often fantasize about it
What its like for someone to know my demons in and out
Its a double edged sword
It has to be
For another human to understand
They'd have to be as crazy as me
I want to connect on a level where our fingertips create small worlds
And our bodies create galaxies
Just by simply touching

And then there's nothing

I don't drink diet soda
I don't count my calories
What even is a carb
I eat McDonald's fries
I get lazy and skip a workout
I cant eat salad without dressing
I love cake, candy, sugar, etc.
I can eat a whole pizza by myself
I like to wear things to try to fit in
I talk about people behind their back
I wear make up
I get mad at my parents
I ask for too much
I expect too much
I try too hard to fit in
I'm 16, 125 lbs, and 5'2"
Go ahead, judge me
See if I care.

Oh, you don't like who I am?
Excuse me for a minute
While I go make myself
A little more socially acceptable
Like another face in the crowd,
A symbol of what is and what isn't allowed
Now I'll be just like you
And you'll be just like me too
Perfection.

In an unforgiving world
of naysayers
and backstabbers
and depraved liars
and false prayers
where
you have to look around you
before
you can dare to look ahead
in an unforgiving world
where the pitchforks are raised
at the slightest of mistakes
in this unforgiving world
I possess
a poison
far more potent
it's called love.
and darling,
you're not getting any.

Rainbow trout at fish farm
Father and son four years old
Caught fish flapping in mud and ****
Little boy feeding it pieces of corn
Not knowing fish is dead already
Post-mortem spasms of rigor
Now remember four year old thinking
This is life, sinking

Mass hysteria
and this is how we rumble
in black clothes with
cops two streets over
ready to assassinate
US presidents and dissidents.
Ready for air.

Ready for takeoff,
the embrace of the long
arm of the law is a chokehold
is a racist institution and
here we are;
junkies, gamblers, jokers, monsters.
Funny thing, we went hunting for
people dressed as monsters
led by monsters disguised as humans.

Yeah, our geniuses die young and brutal.
Ours is the land of stray dogs,
cold rains and streets of garbage
[people included];
The stereotype is today.
The cliche is right now.