i’m sick of the fake world of social interaction
slouching, but pretending when someone asks
“haha, you should totally go for it,” when i don’t even support such a decision

also you should have showed me that story too
although it’s so cringe and i could do without
it
but i’m bad with people, talking, chatting
being a person of substance
substantially
i spilled my sticky juice down my hands
and pretended like it wasn’t uncomfortable and awkward
some weird kid i try to call my friend just hit my other friend’s boyfriend
like an infantile sociopath
now i am getting off topic
but
in my classroom
why are people saying being like that is a sin?
they aren’t even smart enough to believe who God really is
how sad that they’ll never be wasted
until they get burned
and maybe yesterday was awful
but maybe today is way worse
because i am fed up with everyone
(i don’t wanna curse)
i hope there’s no more rolling eyes and annoyed glances coming out from me
or maybe you should just be less annoying
yeah, be less annoying,
children

Atlantic thoughts of fish, schools on schools
what could be better than this, living with no rules
dog days, your cute face, fresh fade, cityscapes
romantic thoughts again, texts on texts
what could be better than this, living the loveliest
warm nights, green lights, divine touch, just rough enough
just how I like

Sitting in  my alleyway
I watch people every day
They see me in my cardboard box
I hear the things they say

It used to bother me, but now
I just let them look and pass
I used to beg for their spare change
But, now I do not ask

I think that as they pass on by
It's my situation that they see
Homeless, living in the cold
They're not seeing me

Some stop, and stare in silence
They don't have the words to say
they see just what they want
While others turn away

Some who pass, they cross the road
On to the other side
They'd rather think I don't exist
Although it's here that I reside

I think that as they pass on by
It's my situation that they see
Homeless, living in the cold
They're not seeing me

If you ask, I'll answer
I'm a man, I have a voice
Although I'm in this alley
I am here by my own choice

Alternatives are out there
But they are not for me
Remember, it's my situation
Not the man I am you see

I wish to not feel the aftershocks of the war occurring inside,
To not make one move that crushes my whole day
under the weight that tears my joints apart.

And yet,

Doctors smile and tell me nothing is wrong
Doctors smile and state that my pain tolerance is just too low
Doctors smile and run the same **** tests
that produce the same **** results
They smile while I rip my hair from my scalp.

The days bleed into one as the clouds covering my brain
chain me to the bed and make raindrops fall from my eyes,
Friends start to believe that I just don't care when I leave their messages covered in dust,
dying in a graveyard called my will to live.

I want to be there for them,
my soul needs to be present with them,
but when you have to box a heavy weight champion inside your own veins just to be able to take a single step,
you got nothing left to give to anyone else.

I'm stumbling through this performance titled life
not even knowing the identity to the puppet master pulling the strings,
fighting an invisible battle against a nameless warrior
and somehow meant to smile and bear it.

Before that August--

(strange month                                        echo)--

bloomed in the east
sunrise bomb                                           sunset dawn

you sometimes
                                                                   rose
(unbidden)

to the surface
of my mind.

These were some of my triggers:

Calgary                                                     (always Calgary)
me too
Christmastime.

And all the times                                     you attempted
to reach out to me

(sucker punch                                          sleep ****).

And then that August--

(good mornin'                                         bombshell)

the news--
for shame.

For I had fallen for the lie
(while you talked all the while
                                                                 in your human voice).

So you like 'em young.
So you like it rough.

August sun                                            beat me down.

It took this glaring
of a light

to show me
the darkest                                             of men's natures--

and that I knew them
intimately.

a memory wrapped its cold, rough hands
around my throat, squeezing it tightly.
as I tried to walk away, the memory
stuck its foot out, blocking my path.
I could only muster a pitiful squeak
as I fell face first onto the ground,
and the memory fell on top of me,
effectively holding my body hostage.
its hands were still on my throat,
but it was invisible to everyone else.
they only saw me fall to the ground.
they asked me what was wrong,
but I did not have air that could
breathe life into the powerful words
that were begging to leave my mind.
a sheet of paper suddenly appeared
underneath my right palm,
and a pencil rolled my way.
I gripped the sturdy pencil with
every ounce of strength I still had,
steadying the paper with my wrist,
and I wrote the words I couldn't say
so they would stop begging to leave,
even as the memory gripped my throat.
as I kept writing, I noticed the memory
stopped feeling as heavy on my body.
it was getting ****** into the paper.
it resisted at first, but after a while,
the memory slowly let go of me
and relaxed into the pencil marks.
when I had no more words left,
I picked myself up off the ground,
placed the pencil above my ear,
took the paper, hugged it to my chest,
and walked away with a smile on my face.

When you look into the mirror what do you see
What do you notice first
Your eyes
Your hair
Your lips
Or do you simply notice you
When you see that mirror there
Are you drawn to it
Drawn to the idea of seeing how you look
To see how everyone sees you
Are you drawn to the mirror that lets you see
Lets you see the beautiful array of colours in your eyes
Lets you see how your face crinkles when you smile
The mirror that lets you see what you yourself cannot