hahaha!

I never knew.

It's been ten years since I met so
so how can I burn this up and run this in the ground?

I think I know...
I'll blow it up.
I'll show up and burn it down.

Everyone is so nice,
so I'll take and run with it.
I'll split with all your joy
and take a **** on
what I should
make good
all out of hell.

The resin built a bark on my childhood tree.

It's sticky and it burns, so bright. My eyes can barely see.



I plugged up holes on how I hate,

But that's not enough for me.


I made dinner,
I fed you,
it took a while.

But you don't care.

After gorging yourself on tasty food,

You can barely see.

While slapping together insulation to pack me away for winter,
I found a pipe of frozen water that splintered through the piping.

So, I shut off the shower, and stop washing clothes,
and checked, tapped all the pipes to see why they frozen.

It's cuz they're real steely and had whole rod knocks,
so, by keep them in, the system it shocked.

I rocked them about, to generate heat.
But, I broke my house up, and burned it up the neat.

I planted two dozen carrot seeds into the ground.

I did it, six months ago.

I took care of them everyday, but I ever found a sprout



I had made me doubt myself.
doubt that I should feel alive.

I doubted living, because my soul didn't matter.

Nothing did.

Nothing mattered.

All that mattered was cash.
No.

Not even that.

All that matter was a face.

All it took was to grace your visage.

And that all you'd ever do.

I knew.

I knew it.

I'm already ready to die.

I won't try.

Just eat it all up.

Eat it all.

I don't care.

Eat it.

Eat it.

Eat it all.

Eat it all.

I've give you 10 years.

But you'll burn your *** off.

Give is 5 months, you won't feel your ears.

Eat. it.
Go.

Eat. It.

God...
Eat. IT.

Try.

Try to be alive.

Eat. Eat ALL of it.

It it.
I will not try.

Good night, molten soggy rock.
I'd never knock on your door
know that we are tracked in a singular
Triangular fate.

You're simple.
So dimpled simple being.

Absurtitiy dragged in the average being.

You've breached the see and now I have to to pretend like I see you on the horizon of peace.

Beware knowers that know who they don't know.

You need praise.
Want want it.
Live on praise in turn.

Average seeks average.

Genius seeks and can **** after anything that differs from the art they want to create.

Fail in creativity from the layman is the creativity of their own.

Making a mountain out of a knife.

Made out of diamond dagger tiger teeth.

Soreness only engaged extra forces.
Let reason and shake
show force unlike
any that has ever been seen
obscene was british command.

Let the biggest brightest take command of larry in clinton.

I swear.
you are
you are
the 'shy *****'

let your general wonder how who you are.
you're just poison.

the reason we lose.

who would take position the commander of chief once all the soldiers die and we have decided to submit to british laws and decide a way to lose.

who would make us? who would make us lose???

I never knew how hard it would be to try,
try so hard to get and deflect bullets.
Those gol' dern' democrats.
I don't trust the enactment of the queen of the old west.
In the best state of being,
maybe in five or ten fearful years
we maybe can seen and rebuild our republic.

I haven't eaten lately.
I've forgotten how to eat.
I'm a chef,
I make me unctuous meals.
Then I leave them in the street.

I'll chew my food,
then spit it out.

I don't deserve to be.
I'm made out of starvation and self hate.
But I should eat more calories.

Instead I starve,
Instead I wait.

Hunger is a feeling
that I can really feel
Which is why I'm scared
To stop the movie reel.
I have my momentum.
I get force fed so I won't die.
But what I really what is lunch.
With my friends...
I want to try...

Please, show it out the door.

Get it away, and pray for me.

I'm ignored by large proportions,
and favored by ****-lickin' pickle *****.

and NEVER!


I would never double down with them;

Instead... I sin.

I find **** holes
to dwell in.

I grabbed a knife.

I knew what I was doing.

It was a knife and sharp as ****.

I weren't not ******' round with it.

It's a deadly weapon, older than you. Older than Jesus.

You know it's true.

But I don't care,

much for me.

Or my tools.

Lucky you.

My knife is dull and not worth much more than catching
the ice cold drool of demons spiking my drink and making me think that I'm just a fool.

There used to be a plane
in dreams I had to abstain of
because they were all covered in blood

Understood, I said
and then I bled with them too

Understood should what should be said and what I should do.

SO of of how it began to bleed all into my still.

and still how often it hurts.

Somewhere there's a team who's playing against me
on a poker table sharing hands that I can't see.
And even though, so far away
Somehow she had helped
Something was deep inside that really could not be helped.

So far, somehow a burgershop
Had happened on a hill

Behind my fairest lady
was a milkshake buried in a field.

Sadly the nervous little thing started off strong,

After long though, cracks started to grow inside the

Show-Off's brains after he shut out noise and color.

Sugar pillows,

Packed in ****** up straws.

Sugar shame drew

drawers of shaky skeletons.

Melted, into cold.
Selling old freezer burnt bits of hope.

Melted in ice,
Felted in wool,
Tilted in title,
and turned into stool.

Crispy.

A list maybe...

Crispy air.

Crispy chips.

Crispy toast.

I felt so old so long ago.

And I'm a lot older than I was then.


I sang my saddest songs when I was happiest.

But I was young.

I had no sense of 'when.'

So, I banged out hours and hours of labor,

and logged away notebooks of independent thought.

"Naught" is not like how I felt.

I searched for a more creamy meaning.

Something much more,

And easy-swallow-snot-knot that doesn't have to fight for a feature
on our front page, caked in anti-anarchy pastry and high-fructose ****-stirrups.

Please.

Greedy, I need.

I sawed it off.

Grease,

I freed it,
I don't need it.
I've fallen off.

Whistle,
and please blow it.

Find it,
and please showed it.

Should I show it off?
That's me?
What sort of man am I?
If I acted like me?
And all I see is... me again?
Just from before.

I soaked my head in acid this morning.

And afterward, toked as hard as I could.


I poked a hole in my favourite tarp to let water in so
I had something to couple with my lunch.


I flaked on dinner plans with my favorite guy in the world.

And I stored up all my regret in leftover pickle jars.

And after stacking them
I finally found the devil edging herself on the brim of my seat.

Please place me upon a midnight farm
and try to convince me that it isn't the moon that I see through the trees.

Please place me up on the sundown settlers
who were better off not waking up and making up
a ruckus
in the middle of the night.

****

Waking up is great,
when you had a nighttime full of dreams.

Sleeping can feel not great,
tho,
when it's bursting at the seams.

I used to sleep,
and dream a lot about a life I should have had.

But now my dreams end up with me shaking,
breaking off slabs of my own cast iron heart.

I know.

It's rusted and torn apart.

We hung out in a frozen bush
And listened to earbuds
Listening to others wish
They could start abuzz

Music is all over us
Music makes us cry
Music made us have to creep
Into strangers arms and try

Try we did
In snow we slid
I slid into a girl
She met me
Liked me
So she did
So my heart unfurled.

Spilled out of my eyelids were stakes of ice made cold
Like a list of lovely leaflets that have died and I can't hold
Shifted out of heaven were all my battle bait.
All it took was fear was to learn how our soldiers hate.

It's hard to stay dark and empty
But it's easier in a lonesome house
Loneliness pretends to be
A cancer, a head louse
But it really isn't
It's not so bad for me
Being both bad and good
Can help a dead eye see
Seeing with a vision
That's not yours alone
Makes precision out of murky minds
And can help a lone heart make it home

I welded slugs of over shelter knacker violence.

Trapped.

Black clack boards caked in chalkboard soot.


Moot, black big heads.

Stacked on dead little sticky bodies on overcooked baking racks.

I'm acting as if lack of laurels is never the be and end all
of who is and ever was.

I have nothing to gain.
I just want you to squirm.
I have nothing to lose.
And I know you are a woooorm.

Please...
I'm begging you
dig deep
and let reality sink in.

Let sin and acid rain showers show
everyone everything about how horrible life is.

It's a bitter business to sort out all of our tired terror into
stupid little sections
and it beckons the question of
"Why?"

Well begone oceans have set upon me
the sort of wave that water makes me see
Living on the edge of hell
is a braid I've built with fire.
Playing is the blend I built
and I played it on a lyre.

Degraded relegated
after our
horn-held *******-red bed stands
stained again stick wallpaper
and painted like...
over...
all over our
overpulped walls.

Goddess.
Goodness.

My fortunes of fate-filled freedom is riddled
with over-worked words and little bits of truth.

I'm bored.
Overshored.
Freckled, and aloof.

And that should be proof of how I'm feeling.
How it happened it's only how I'm sure
that shouts at my indignants is the best way to get ignored.

Set in the muddy stone seemed to be a sort of mortar message.

From what I can tell, It's in the home country's native tongue.
And among our best boys, I'd bet you it'll be a boy of ours.

So what would we do with the stars in the window that hung about all the grease and hell we were dispersed in overnight?

Alright.

It's like this...

I have money.

I'm sorry.

And you're ****.

What's for dinner?
What's the food?
What should I eat?
How do I stay alive?
What should I do?

How do we manage?
How to we heave out hate?

What's it like to be a person?
What's it like to try to mate
with anyone.
Or anything.
And anybody who made my heart sing?
And Why?

Why does my soul hurt?
Why am I sad?
And why do I cry?
And why does it STING?!

Flickered into corners,
on the edges of evening doorlights.

Flattered, happened, and upheld
I had centered myself

and sold my soul
to a crossroads man.

I asked Mister Brick Breaker to take some stock off of my shift

Mister Back Breaker said that I was remiss in my dealings and all but how I felt with them

Miss Packet Maker would weave and send out stories that would not make us stories.

She used to send out stories about us, and how our lives were not bad.

I pocked a glass candle holder after I knocked it off the shelf.

I smelt burnt tortillas, and felt like a monster.

I floundered.

I snickered.

I broke a bit off of a bar of KFC gravy.


I'm sorry.
Maybe I'll be good.
Maybe I'll be nice.

Maybe I'll move foward.
Maybe...
Just Maybe...
I hate rice.....

White Rice.

I love vitamins.


Just not white rice.

Hosting a party in a hotel room
is partly why I'm not as hydrated as I should be.

Parting waves under a durag to helps shape my hair
left me owning hot oil and sandpaper.

Maybe later I'll be okay enough to say that I'm in love
But showing up like how I am is unforgiving,
So I'd rather shrug off nature and notions
owing to outlying litters of
frogs, fish, and finality.

First off...
Who's the chump now?

I know.
I figured if ever, I'd have to show my true self.

I'd held hard.
And even have had a fast to hold on.

But it bit me instead.
and now I'm dead
and I never held
a head in my lap
that said:
"I Love You."

Peeled, and held in glorious places.

Held, confunded, and shelved in the sort of spaces

that tend to find the lot.

To find the shot of heavy metals.

It'll hold the hot glue,
I knew how stiff are the sticker spaces?

Cuz I'm not so racist?
I just like jokes and neon scooters?
And what's up with that?!

Someone said one day
"You'll make a lot of you!"

Someone said that I should say
what I really do.

Someone, somewhere
once upon a time, said

That I AM a lunatic
and that I'd never really shine.

Never have I ever felt not so even crazy.

It amazed me
when I found out me,
it was not ME!
It's you!

It's in everything you do.
It's in the air upon your hair...
It's the smell in your soul, it's true.

It's eleven in the night.
But still i'd rather fight.
For the fact that you're not me.
But I can't begin to be
a guy who can be for someone.

For someone who is him.
It's a shame, and I'm a sin.
But even still it's how I feel.
I feel your wrong, and I'm not ill.

I dressed in a black tie suit.
And we had situated all of us into a line.

I'd felt blessed with us.
with who we were
because all I knew was insanity.
Blame me for feeling,
but I never knew.

I never showed myself
about life.
and nothing else.
Nothing much.

I bunched up a hitch in my parts.
And I started on how far we should feel.
So I dealt with it...
and that's my deal.

It was covered in mud
And the truck wouldn't start
I clicked it and thud
The truck bed was my heart

He dragged my *** in
My brown heart on a pile

I was an assistant to sin

So long had it been with my catfish and beer
I would never had though Jonny law would appear

But up on the bay was a ranger pile of rocks
stacked up with a shotgun and a shepherd of german stock.

So fire put out.
And my lungs would shout.

All I had was drug hair, and my adult record, despair
So for fury, for fire, for hell was my head.
And dead thought I was.
But instead was because all I was was a boy, and enjoy had they did was the state trooper ID to stay " boys will be boys"
so my self I'll get rid!

Plastic fact-based witches dug a ditch for me last night.
I never knew. I only thought I'd partied too hard.

Sentenced to a hell-hole, in basal bereavement I showed.
I showed up and store all sorts of goo.

I knew it's not funny.
But still I buried my hell-bunny
And hopped into a hellhole of sinful slop.

How did it really happen?
It happened late at night,
while we were serving dinner,
lit by candle light.

Fuzzy smells on frizzy hair
is how I held her first.
I helped hand out tickets,
and she helped me with dessert.

Across the room,
she worked away
and worked her way towards me.

And I loved talking shop,
So I got on my knee.

I helped her with her cravings,
and she put a lid on me
She simmered in the mornings,
while we sang and climbed up trees.

At night, it's late
And life so tragic.
That's when she cursed my life
With her yoga magic.

Grazing in the hell hills,
I stumbled about a sticky situation.

Mumbling.
Making a mole hill out of ant barracks.

It's true.
I shouldn't stare at the sun.

So, instead
Let us run an artificial operation.

Maybe, let's mention
just how sterile of a horrorshow life showed, and should be what it should be.

Stumbling around...
Still.
Holding still in a coffee shop.

It's not what I hold.
And It's not what I have.
It's not even anchored in my soul,
but still I can NOT stop.

Shivered,
Half hearted heavens had shelved
High, hope-filled tropes.
Showed, in a high glass window.

Feeling.
Felt in a silica ceiling,
made in heaven-held weaves
Showed about in all sorts of
mentions.

Extended ceilings.
Pretended feelings.
Unscrupulous dealings,
Stated,
and held in toxic air.
It's a share of horror.
It's a pair of knowing
More than ever was.
Let it ****.
Let it do what it does.

I had a dear, named Bonnie.

A year more young than me.


I fed her yummy food.
Made her laugh to try and see.

I tried to make her see
What I saw
So she would stay.

But she loved me in a way that would scare my friend away.

She saw, and finally said;

She saw what she'd thought she'd see.

But it meant a lot.

It meant a lot.

that she would act.

that she would be the same the same girl.

After five years.

And that showed me, I'd have to change who I want to be.

Not to see her again one day, because I knew she'd go away.

But she taught what I should strive to be, if I want my best friend to stay.

Every morning, on a run. a dandelion crossed my path.

I wish I were more smart,
but that's not me.
That's not what I have.

I can lose a homie.
And dip out a little bit.

And show how I'm not smarmy.
To no react to what is it.

Ask me a question.

Ask me all you can.

I just need want you on record.

And prove you are a man.

After my mind had let her go,
I stayed near to frozen water and cracked an egg,

I prayed while I fried my food in that frozen skillet.

I played with the string on my boots,
the boots all rotted out,
I played with them until I was brave enough to shoot out a complaint about how hard our life's had been.

So...
So they got mad and binned us into batch and snatched away our phones.

Bemoaning about out lack of rights is like a baby pooping too hard.

It's not all about you or me.

We're here cause we let down our guard.

Safefy is just safety.
But safety isn't safe.

You are you,
and I am I
cause we don't have the right color in our
face.

My marbles shine...

they sparkle ******* in the corner of the floor.


I had to scrape up all sorts of crooked glass *******, because I had expected early evening company.


Never again.

After works I forked over tip dollars in order to pay for all of the premium services.

Even still, after, I neglected all of my maniac potion recipes.


Instead, I just waited to see
how bouncy and fun fun fun every one might be.