Spanish influenza
walking pneumonia
icepick headache
common cold
whooping cough
Diabetes
anorexia
getting old

flat foot
bad back
heel spur
heart attack
spasticus
autisticus
tongue tied
amb(i)dextrous

my weakness
is my forte
my sickness is  my skill
my illness
is my realness
it makes my life a thrill

Trying to fight this
bronchitis
gangrene
runny nose
frostbite
tooth decay
hat hair
broken bones

bed bound
shell-shocked
flea ridden
sinusitis
cholera
dropsy
eliphantitis
out-all-nightis

wom­b fever
winter fever
black water fever
remitting fever
ship fever
jail fever
camp fever
or schizophrenia

scarlet fever
tuberculosis
American plague
rock n roll
Wheezing
Paralysed
Got gas
In both holes

rabies
scabies
rickets
and SARS
man flu
bird flu
swine flew
from Mars

multiple sclerosis
tennis elbow-sis
stomach ulcers
and leukaemia
night blindness
hypothermia
lung cancer
sickle-cell anaemia

French pox
Lockjaw
Polio
Gout
Nostalgia
Dropsy
Knocked right
Out

Stuttering
Bellyacher
Anti-social
Leprosy
Sleep walker
Sleep talker
Absent minded
OCD

Tourettes, ****
Pyromania
tonsillitis
Conjunctivitis
Food poisoned!
Warted over
My Psoriasis
(Will I survive this?)

Measles
Malaria
Meningitis
Migraine
Scrum-pox
Worm fit
Water on
the brain

apparitions
seeing things
rattly chest
bad breath
la duzi
tormentation
inflammation
black death

measles
malaria
migrane
mumps
leprosy
lice and
leg bone
lumps

kleptomania
bubonic plague
black *****
feeling ****
bone shave
falling sickness
wanna stop
just cant quit

Huntington's and
Parkingson's and
Hare-lipped
Hay fever
Typhoid fever
Glandular fever
Night fever
And Hysteria

intellectual
dyslexia
dysfunctional
family
cancer crab
stillborn twin
bad blood
epilepsy

Parking spot
disabilities
all the wounds in
all the militaries
pity thee with
lost agility
lost babes or
infertility

ear infection
starvation
Hepatitis
E to A
smallpox
chicken pox
cow pox
what a day

tuberculosis
stuttering
panic stricken
star struck
scurvy
shingles
headless chicken
bad luck


paranoid
in the void
premature
*******
stomach ulcers
feeble pulses
chronicled
*******

autistic
gallstones
double-jointe­d
wrists and knees
consumption
bad digestion
quinsy palsy
ticks and fleas

amnesia
typhus
amnesia
heart failure
radiation
cholera
amnesia
bad behaviour

Hypochondriac?
By gosh, no!
Poorly are ye?
‘Fraid so.


nostalgia
        suffer me
wanderlust
suffer me
insomnia
suffer me
loneliness
let me be



god
complex
mother
complex
father
complex
ego
complex

­

its complicated
im superior
its complicated
im inferior
its complicated
im a short man
got ingrown hairs
got a bad tan



im suffering
ocd
im suffering
obesity
im suffering
jealousy
xenophobia
and nosebleeds



stokholm
syndrome
toxic shock
syndrome
got it down
syndrome
irritable bowel
syndrome

yellow nail
syndrome
stevens-johnson
syndrome
restless leg
syndrome
shoulder-hand
syndrome

lambert-eaton
syndrome
mi­ddle-lobe
syndrome
mobius
syndrome
pickwickian
syndrome

post rubella
syndrome
riley day
syndrome
straight back
syndrome
ulysess
syndrome



alcoholics
we are prone
drug addicts
we are prone
mind benders
we are prone
fortune spenders
we are prone



My illness, my illness
My illness is my realness

*Pick it up
Tide it over
Fight it off or
Cave in

Save it
Suffer it
Pass it on
When its Raining

bleed him
restrain him
shave his
head

he went from being
quite well
to being quite
dead.

If I kiss a woman, I am a lesbian
If I kiss a man, I am straight
I have this illogical need to scream at the heavens from atop a cliff
To scream I’m here in this world; I exist!
To say I am just bisexual is wrong
To say that certain aspect of me is the most oppressed is wrong
I am a woman, I am bisexual, I have tourettes, I have depression
I could go on for hours saying I ams
Saying statements that describe me
I am oppressed and stereotyped by the society I live in
So why is being bisexual the one I defend the most?
I asked myself this daily
Until I found the answer
Every other fact about me is undeniable;
I have a ******
I have diagnoses
That is tangible evidence
I have no sheet of paper with a signature of some fancy M.D.
Nor do I have some body part that labels me as bisexual
There is no definite way to tell if I am bisexual
Which makes it easier for people to say You’re just confused or It’s just a phase
And no matter how often I say it’s not; they won’t believe me
They don’t believe me because I don’t have the evidence they want
I don’t have an M.D.’s signature
I don’t have that ‘bisexual bodypart’
All I have is my own knowledge
And I don’t give a **** if that’s not good enough for you
Because I do exist
And I am here to stay

In your vision you are the only thing with bloodshot eyes.
You always wear a robe
that speaks seven languages... and a bank of fog is at your feet
nipping at your naked heel.
In your vision you remember how your arms feel in sunshine.
It is intense.

Your can-opener is hissing an etude
that alludes to wise men...
who bathe in miracles
and roam the world,
untarnished in Poverty.
Your can-opener whispers in hush tones
about barbarians at the gate. And they say
' they've come for the Linen ! '

You are not deceived.

In your vision you are the only thing that can backward engineer
a Universe.

On your way back to the homeland of your algebra
you hesitate. “ you may have left your keys in your Other Robe...”
The Robe that hallucinates constantly~ Carrying on about
' The dire consequences of leaving terrycloth alone with the keys '
and, afflicted with Prophesy Tourettes
the piteous tide of doom ' sayeth the robe '
you must suffer.

In your vision, you are the only one
looking for the keys.

You are ******* amazing! Great to hear from you so soon! Even better to grasp a part of your humanly self. It’s ******* amazing! It makes me feel like a ******* human! All ****** up in this existence!

Of relationships
I sail in an electric and magical connection one that never radiates. The dreams we had are not impossible.... not plausible. Let me draw the graph for you. The pie charts aced in cycles….. an assortement on the menu. Yet with you, there is a need to sit on your wing and soar above the skies a high. A part of me wished and wished. I feel this place with you is not only a mind **** but a **** ****.  On humanly reality lets jump on the coyote and feel the essence and touch the dreams. Welcome to the memoirs of  my voidness and shitness.

Relationships **** with a responsibility and expectations we lay on another human being. Yet, I smell your scent and forget to sneeze.I drawn to you as a bee is to a pollen. You are wow, a soul that wakes the goddess. I am truly hooked to this journey you traced.... **** ME!

Of Consumption
Your consumption makes you look like a narcissist. That elongated padlock you hang on the door.What in the world makes you think that I can’t understand you? Yet when one meet another like one, life changes dramatically. A heightened feeling of belonging. I lay enchanted by the ecstatic energy that is  over and ever-rising ..... am I ****** up or what? I shine your light, our light.Are you an angel or just a sheep with the devil's eye?The universe happenings HUH!

Of you
Cry the ******* tears and never stop being you. You are you. There is no need of sugar coating or hiding your existence, your uniqueness. Masking your concrete and your vulnerabilities.Roll your **** and I will get soaked in mine, keep the sinking quarry to yourself. Root oneself as the ******* string evokes.

Of Pain... *******!
No one ever planned for the hurt..... it's **** and it's life. **** the ache…… embrace the joy of the universe. Life in it's intricacies is a mystery. Then I am like ****…. Society tells us that one needs to be owned but I reject that notion…. Totally. Thanks for the openness! The warmest escape and embrace by a stranger. Somedays my logic ticks and ticks, then the doubt preys. I question the stream of differences. We creep as we fill the lines..... love and transmute!

...So Long....
What am I doing here acting like a baby who needs ***** changing….. **** this typing Tourette’s.  ****! The warrior hearts will fight through. The love they found, the visions stormed, the wall and obstacles we face. Keep shining the light as if a heaven guardian. The love is in the patterns, the dreams.... Be sure that this love will be hidden in a sacred place! Get a grip because I will always ******* love you...... *******!

Just fly and *******,
J

the sky is blue
the grass is green
the birds fly
its a beautiful day
theres trees all around
a tiny squirrel sits on the shitcockassbitchmotherfuck
....
....
maybe ill stay home today

IM SICK AND TIRED of you thinking that the only thing I do on a daily basis is get up drag my feet to go and eat my cocoa puffs, sit back, max and relax, watch cartoons and reminisce about 8 tracks.
NAH **** THAT!
Because it doesnt matter to you that I’ve proven how intelligent I am,
because
you still think my skin is a sham and I’m supposed to be in the back of a classroom hardly able to read and write my name because thats how the
“good” ones have been tamed.
But the lights are dim back there because the brighter students get the brighter lights in the front row chairs.
My hand is raised the entire hour and 15 minutes but you never even attempt to stutter my name.
Because what I say is not your reality.
As far as you are concerned it is incorrect. I have tourettes with absolutely no regrets as to what I say,
but I’ll make **** sure that you know the truth.
I get my paper back and it says “plagiarized”...
now what the **** makes you think that?
Because I can use words that have more than 3 syllables and form a sentence in your vernacular this is syntactically more capable than anything that your low IQ has ever been able to form easily?
I apologize.
For not being politically ignorant
ebonically incorrect
and generally not being dumb enough for you to laugh and point to call me ******.

Please, Slim Shady...sit the **** down...this is grown up talk now.
Realize. The colonizer knows not of his privilege because he blindly walks with it.
While we, I mean me, walk very knowingly with shackles and chains with your name, that speak she has not yet been tamed with every jingle, and threatening step that I take toward the invasion of your future.

I’ve taken all your required high school courses
******* Pretentiousness English 3 and 4.
And my score means absolutely nothing, despite the fact that it is higher than your front row chairs that stare and nod robotically, because they are afraid to question your ability.
Understand...your PhD means jackshit to me.

Don’t hurt yourself in trying to comprehend.
You’d probably go insane but lets not try to think about that.
Lets get back to your wack *** philosophy that I because I don’t speak in the proper vernacular I don’t know nothin’.
Like the fact that what I just said is a double negative. But see its funny, because when I use ebonics and incorporate double negatives to illustrate a point, I’m ignorant.
And yet Mark Twain is a literary genius for doing the exact same thing.

Would it change if I said that Mark Twain was black?
But I wouldn’t do that.

It would set me up for an attack and you’d try to have these literary comebacks and I’d have to smack....
some knowledge on you.
That your Twain, got his twang from being in the main presence of we. And yes I mean we. As in people like me, and Talib Kweli. Or to date back in history Phillis Wheatley, who messed with you psychologically, but you thought she was too stupid and you are too naive to see that she was an O.G.
The true original gangster.

There are too many -e’s
but they are necessary to eeeeeeevoke,
no elicit the response your failing to recognize that your ties to 21st century humanity are short
ragg’ed
and slowly splintering away.

You missed those entire 3 pages in your history textbooks when it said that
BLACK doesn’t make any less of a person.
BLACK is a crayon color.
And BLACK doesn’t even exist in skin color...we are brown.
That was another thing your genius colorblind mind refused to recognize.

I am stamping “plagiarized” on every Mark Twain book ever written because our swag was stolen!
In 1492 Columbus sailed to ocean blue
to give us diseases and call us illiterate savages.
Thats not very nice...better table manners would be appreciated. (And we’re the savages)

YOU CAN TAKE THIS PAPER AND...
use it as a book mark. Those history books are screaming your name, its time to answer your call.
Come back to me when you realize that I am intelligent and hold the key to all that is not  a rainbow
or unicorn and fairy princesses.
We all live in reality that your bright lights and shiny piece of paper is blocking you from seeing.
Come to the back where the lights are dim,
and your dissed on a whim,
but it helps you realize that just maybe...
your life is plagiarized.

The voices inside my head are taking over.
These u-u-uncontrollable quirks I have.
My eyes twitch as many times as a heart beats after doing a triathlon.
In my head of runs a marathon of thoughts that don't belong,
things I can't do because they're wrong.
Within my blood stream flows 1.26 grams of dopamine given to me by doctors who don't know how to fix my situation,
only mix prescriptions to intensify vexation. Pharmacists eyeball me fearingly because I appear to be nothing but someone with chemicals wandering around into the little bit of a brain I have left.
Serotonin to regulate my mood, appetite, and sleep but I still only wish for all of this to be nothing but a dream.
All of this making my intestines mutilate, slowly dying inside as if I had Irritable Bowel Syndrome. Otherwise known as I.B.S. but I know for a fact that this is all just a bunch of B.S.
My enterochromaffin cells may just burst, I am often told.
If only I could tell what was real from what was fake.
For I also have A.D.H. - whoa! What's that?!
Sorry, where was I?
Oh. Tourettes Syndrome.
I guess I just twitch it off.
Maybe these are all figures of my imagination from the hallucinogens.
Who knows?
After all, I am a schizophrenic.

A letter to my Tourettes

Dear Tourettes Syndrome;

I was diagnosed with you as a child.
I would try to hide you, but it failed.
You bruised my wrists and shoulders,
You made my palms red.
You caused me pain.

Kids would point and laugh, because they didn't understand,
You were the cause of my bullying.
How could you do this to me?
I didn't choose nor want you,
But I learned to deal with you.

You expected to be loved.
But I don't know how I feel.
Maybe I love you,
Or maybe I HATE YOU.
You hurt me physically and emotionally,
How could I love you?

It's funny through all the pain,
You stayed.
It's not your fault,
I was made and you were just another part of me.

I was ashamed of you,
You were a disgrace.
But as I said you are a part of me.
And I have accepted you,
Although I don't always like you,
I'm proud of you.
Despite the pain,
I want you to stay forever.

- StefC

I wake up
        head ****
        shoulder roll
        tongue click
I get ready for school
        head ****
        head ****
        groan
I get on the bus
        oi
        whimper
I put on my headphones
        arm ****
People stare
        oi
I suppress
        They build
The minutes drag on
        Like an itch they can’t be ignored
The bus can’t go fast enough
        They’re pushing up
We arrive at school
        They’re going to escape
I run off the bus
        They begin to explode
        head ****
        arm ****
I distance myself from the students
        oi
        arm ****
        head ****
        head ****
        groan
        tongue click
        tongue click
        whimper
They stare
        shoulder roll
        arm ****
        shoulder roll
        whimper
        oi
        oi
Everyday I tic and twitch

every canary has a star in its' mouth
that can stop a .50 caliber bullet. and little black eyes.
the south face of a north wind
has always been polite
before shattering your bones,

it is peculiar, but the very thing that makes you breathe
makes you need too.
the fix is in.

II

cruelty is the soft grit of pitch dark.

III

every canary has another word for suffocation.
it rhymes with kerosene and licks its' teeth.
it sleeps in the barn. Feasting on horses -
and dung.
it sounds like falling and glowing, but feels like
extinction. it obliterates the need for another word
for Hope.

Or something else as trivial... to abandon.

Let the a.n.t.s sleep
Warm and dry blankets
Let the victories of the future brace you
Body molesting wind demons
false but True
Cloak yourself in my laughter
Grab reality and pull a book out of your spleen,
with a Dim mak to sentence your fears to death.
The first page is eternity,
Stay within the pleasure, bathe in it,
Body hyper aware, unclouded vision
Disrobe, and bathe in it
Open the door and begin
It is Unjust not to
Press Play.....
It will all rush forward, and you will breath freely.
Trumpeted like the arrival of an avatar of the love goddess.
Cool cheeks, unmarked by tear tracks..
Built back up with the love you feared had departed.
I'm pitiful alone.
It is emotions prerogative to make its opinion known.
These feelings cannot be ignored.
Doing so makes things worse.
Let confidence be always with you
For all time
Unending
Everyday
All day long
You can honestly talk to me.
Trivial questions.
Something burdening your breast.
I can make you feel better, if only for a handfull of minutes.
You'll float away, but later crash on heavy thought.
However....
You know 
For several reasons
The outcome is always the same
Mind games are involuntary muscle spasms,
it is an affliction of chaos tourettes, inherited from a goblin ancestor,
Straighten your shoulders, I am here to reassure you, 
Every day it will get lighter
The stress will be less, the panic will simmer
The message is salvation, in acceptance of the depth of the love felt for you.
I am here to listem.
Stop being kicked around by your thoughts.
Feel instead, gliding into a gathering of like minds.
I dare not say the full extent of what I know, and what I feel is transparent.
It grants me sanity
The compulsion to sing
Satisfying smashed hearts
Feeding your lips
Sanctifying your suffering into submission
Fulfilling a proper apology for the perversions.
You have won the war.

I am wading out knee deep into the evening's drinks.
I let my eyeballs take a dip as my wallet plays the breaker.
You'd think the woman had tourettes the way she tries to wink.
She flirts no better than the sisters who oft walk god's acre.

Maestro, another!

A black suit hammers ritzy tusks somewhere across the bar.
The waves upon the wires lap across my eardrum's shore.
My lonely, daydream doll is finally called off from afar.
I'm far too low and far too blitzed to enjoy another bore.

Maestro, another!

When I recall how we met, I transubstantiate my veins
with hopes to find a fertile mound to plough to rude degrees.
Too many furrows to recall, but still your name remains.
So, still I hunt for lonely moths who dance beneath marquees.

Maestro, another!

Why does every truth align with all the stars at night
only to scatter just as broken glass when morning breaks?
Every wholesome oath I swear to cherish all my life
melts with every dewdrop my lawn's unkept blades shake.

we stroll the orchard
where grapes prune
and apples dutch
the burgeoning ****
of our memories...

we remain shimmering in true dusk. there
on the cusp of inscrutable lust and the chaste rabies
of a sliver of first bone
with tornado lips
and cotton
random.

we cajole our misfortune,
and rise at noon; without laughing -
we ****** our hags from the raven
that feathered our cap.
we elapse with the dead
in the basement of our rendering.
a little ahead of ourselves
or dead, no matter what.
the orchard glooms a demise
in the calm tourettes
of our syndrome...

both alone in the teeming all-spark
of our glorious sundering...
our Mondays say less than
our Present Day -
and a yarn of plight and sunstroke
gropes at the  barb
of our bee stung
innocence

we chide the withering
for all the Withering -
and all the good
it does....

besides.

we wrath glide the plum

then have at Life.

Are today's young people troubled?

Is their hearing all impaired?

Do they think that thier loud music?

Will make some people scared?

I don't want to hear it

And I think that you'll agree

That their music sounds real ******

And I know it's not just me

They sit inside their cars alone

Playing sound  bites at full bore

If it gives me **** headache

Then they must be quite sore

The bass just shakes my bladder

The treble hurts my teeth

It peels the skin back on my skull

So you can see what's underneath

If I wanted to hear their music

I'd ask them for a ride

But intstead of going with them

I think I'd rather hide

Today, while waiting at the lights

A car pulled even with my front

His music shook my windows

The kid looked like a runt

I couldn't hear my wife at all

She was just two feet away

But, I wouldn't let this twerp fiends noise

Destroy my perfect day

I yelled at him profusely

I had tourettes of my left hand

I flipped him off eleven times

While he listened to his band

He smiled and turned it louder

Just to show he didn't care

Then he smugly, turned away from me

Just like  I wasn't there

I thought about how vengeance

Is something best served cold

And I thought I'll teach this *******

I'm not that ****** old

So, as he increased his volume

His hip hop shook my glass

I fired back with Mel Torme'

That sure put him on his ***

He cranked it up again some

And this song hurt my liver

But, I left him sittling stone faced

When I hit him with Moon River

I don't wan't to hear their music

And they do not want mine

And if they blow their ear drums

To me...that would be fine.

I've walked through the locked doors of a mental ward to go and visit someone considered a danger to themselves. Half starved girls make short steps past me and I double take to check if I'd seen a ghosts.
But ghosts are the ones looking for their mortality not the ones looking to drop it. So I turn my face away... And despite the nature of where I am I manage to crack a smile because somewhere on this floor was a small room with lost and found and I had some misplaced love to turn in. The young women on this ward have been here anywhere between weeks to years and they considered it a hell away from home. But the Afternoons I got to spend there will continue to be some of my greatest memories.

There's a lot going on up stairs. Between our 10 fingers 2 eyes 5 senses and 1 voice we're going experience this place one way or another, and your experience will be unlike mine and mine will be unlike his but we can go to sleep knowing that what we felt was real.

So I imagine it's scary being told by a medical professional that some area of your viewing experience is not as it seems. There's dead pixels in your screen. You've been meaning to redeem the warranty on that broken dream of a reality you've been living. But the company that sold you your world is out of business. That is to say when you check into insanity, there's no reception to show you to your room. Every spoon you're fed tastes real, but the people sitting across from you sees no meal. You feel scared.

And yet through all the poor unfortunate souls to behold on this ward one of them taught me beauty in the crazy, and seek these lessons in all of the other people. I want OCD to teach me to arrange my audience in such a way that you all look perfect. I want ADHD to teach me speech. Let me cradle impulse in every corner of my mouth and when it finally flows out let it roll about like a newborn who had it's mother craving haribos and red bull for 9 straight months. I wanna start speed dating for the narcoleptics and insomniacs and see if either can sleep on their wedding night. Watch them grow old together and have no concept of time passed because who the hell knows what time is is when your sleep patterns been ****** with. I want tourettes to teach me that this feeling is uncontrollable let our hearts be uncapped, every open armed come back, every face to face sweet embrace you give to those you love feels so natural that words like 'can't ' or 'no' become unfathomable.

But I can't pretend that these are easy gifts to accept, so many tears gave for the labeled and named, asking what's inside my brain, can I be called sane?

So my friend in the lost and found department of the ward taught me, recovery and stability are part of the beauty. Her dress size was the fine line between happier times or a cut short life. But now the time she's kept out of hospital grows like her smile. She's come miles and miles and and all the while is a living monument to the phrase 'things get better'... and that's all this is. Despite reality itself being an uncertainty and and the skies throwing all kinds of weather in the end, we're all birds of a feather that flock together and we need to remember that the sad times aren't forever, so this is a handwritten love letter to the things that get better.

Oh ****,
I have Tourettes.
Everybody just forgets.
I twitch,
I'm having tics.
I stutter a bit,
I stammer.
Very loud,
Always proud.
I write poetry.
Like none before have ever heard.
Beautiful poetry.
Reads spoken word on You Tube.
Give this guy a view.
(C) LIVVI

Do I disgust you because I want ***?
The hypothetical argument already slides as
graceful as tourettes, and I can
feel imaginary bile and panic creeping up my throat
and into my
mouth as I attempt to talk 'south'
Talk '*****' to you
Talk '*****' to me, 'baby'
I'm silently wishing you'd save me from the
awkwardness of this talk, wish you'd take me by the breast
and walk me through the rest of your likes
and dislikes
Because, I want to make you feel higher than a kite
or ******, or crack, or smack,
I want to stop endlessly repeating all the things
that I might lack
Because, you don't seem to want me anymore
No matter how much you adore who I am
Can you fill me in on the gaps please, I want
to know if you feel that you can have same aching need that I do
My sexuality is like an un-erasable tattoo
I don't take strives to hide it
I don't feel that I need to
But am I deranged in thinking
that you think I should be ashamed to?

Darling, I want to *******.
I wish I didn't think that this
might be an issue.

Correct me,

I Flow Sinical,
Huggin A Coat,
Holding This Black Rose,
Oh , I'm So Cold,
All Alone,
Should've,
Known,
Home Don't Feel Like Home,
It's All Because Of Me,
See I Can't Feel A Bone,
Twisted Like Some Dreads,
Mirror Image Snakes On Head,
All Black,
Red Sand,
Ahead Of My Thoughts And,
Checmical Imbalance,
Challenge My Talents,
They Lookin At Me Like They ******* Lost,
I Don't Fight, I Will Protect My Life,
A ******* Boss,
It's On Don,
Time To Box,
Super Smooth Right,
Romance Type,
Rhymes Shine Like,
Middnight Moon Sight,
Lady We Can Hold Hands Tight,
I'ma Vamp,
Jam The Mic,
Out The Amp,
Camper Night,
Crowd Gone Want An Oncore,
Cos They Feel Me When I'm Spillin Beans,
I'm Cold They Want Me On More,
I'm On Tour,
Took A Plane Just To Sit,
What The **** Is This,
Bonjour,
Rituals Closed Doors,
Won't Expose The Ugly Oaths,
If I Hear You Crack An Ugly Joke ,Auidos,
You Got To Go,
Running From My Self This Long,
Blood On Theese Blisterd Toes,
Owl I See You Gold,
I'm Missing You,
How Will I See You Go,
Black Wings On My Back,
Bats Sing,
Ghost Show,
Enities,
Scary Things,
Woah,
Right Now,
I'm Bout,
To Get It In My Whip And Go,
I Hate To Be Alone,
Length Hurts More,
I Feel Like An Earth Warm,
Soul Burns, I'm Sore,
I'm Sore
Perpare For THe Grand Fanaliy,
Sacred Notes Spoken By The Adams Family,
I Tried To Breath,
I Tried To Leave And Succusseed,
Exceed In Cali,
Before I Leave
Cemertary Scene,
Sit On A Grand Paino,
And Begin To Angel Sing,
Wrapped Up ,
In Black Dust,
Intriging Things,
Such Vivid Dreams,
Speak Nice,
I Reancarnated A Fly,
Should Of Been There It Was Hype,
Intrusive Thoughts,
3rd Eye Sharp As Hell,
Some Just Lie,
And Tell
My Ryimng Giant,
Roar Like Sirens,
Silence A Lion Tail,
And If I'm Silenced For Braking Silience,
Violent Tale,
Everythings A Story,
Glimpse Of An Experience,
Illumatied With A Sphere In Him,
Are You Hearing Em,
New Dimensions Put Fear In Em,
I'm Not FearLess,
See And Hear Ghost,
Immense Spirtual,
Deacreses Pieces Beneath Intesity Of Physical,
Pain Reaps Pleasre,
This Might Alarm Some,
Umm, Karma Is Risidual,
Percautious Actions,
Propper Packin,
Excotic Chick,
Cool As This,
Sits With A Napkin,
Poeitc Romantic Majestic,
Captin,
Thanks For Letting My Cats In,
Manners Like I'm Well Be Haved,
Nailed To The Grave,
Verbatim When I Say Demons Know The Game,
I Have Tourettes I Twitch My Neck,
Sensations Anxious Pain,
Channel There's No Train,
Why Do We Some Times Wait,
There's Is No Hopping On A Train,
Right This Way ,
There's No Such Thing,
Every Year Fear Cutting My Wings,
Despriptive Dreams,
Doungion Screams,
Destructive Thoughts Manifest Bad Things,
What If I'm Not Dead,
Just My Head Glimpsing Into An Expeirence That Rings,
Some Times I Picture
Daisy Filled Trees,
Gold Light Right Beside A Swing,
Empty Seat Beautiful Scene,
Poetry Deep,
Tears Scream What Does It Mean,
I Don't Mean To Be Mean,
Inflicted With The Wicked,
Demons Screamin At Me, ,
Alot Is Not What It Seems,
My Thoughts Build The ***,
Sensations Bloomin Seeds,
Frequency From My Belief,
Is Primarily The Feed,
Change Your Thoughts Around 2 Weeks,
Or Reality Becomes The Leaves,
Were Equal With Speech,
Diffrent Ways To Relay Communicate,
Willing To Teach,
You Can Stay When It Rains,
Please Take A Seat,
Are You Thirsty , Are You Hungry,
We Can Eat,
Need An Ear, Help Fighting Fear,
Come Here,
Just Tell Me What You Need,
A Never Ending Hug ,
Or The Deepest Spoken Piece,
I'm Hurting Coping With The Beast Inside Of Me,
Purgotry True Story Burns Like A Priest,
Vampire , Wearwolf,
Hybrid ,
Teeth,
Peter Pan Spirit ,
Spy Like Speech,
Smooth When I Move,
Staright Forward Like Sheets,
Don't Sweat My Technique , Lie Or Be Thief,
Chosen One,Under A Golden Sun,
Master Key,
Craftin Rappin Abbraccaddabra , Master Piece,
I'm Coming At Ya With I Understand,
And Peace,
Dreams Come True,
See,
I Telport To A Cave On Side Of Seas,
Black Sand,
Red Beach,
Gazin At The Waves I'm Amazed,
Today The Rain Didn't Take Me,
I'm Dying I'm Eyeing Save The,
Iron Silence,
Rippin SKin Reachin For Saftey,
White Noise,
It Is Pericing Loud,
Letting Go,
Can Turn It Down,
Don't Walk Away Come On Turn Around,
Out Burst Anger Burns The Ground,
So Confused , Emotinal Bruse,
Right, Wrong ,
Who's To Choose,
Perceptions Immbeded With A Nouse,
Code Infected With Negletic Hectic,
That Was Hard I Said It,
Past All Scars, Regret It,
All Alone Driving Down A Dark Rode,
Oh No, Yo A ****** Nose,
Passion Rose
Magik Nose,
Eyes Know,
Aroua white Snow,
Violet Glow,
Sharp Tone,
Mom You Home,

Spinning circles in my head
I never have been on the meds
I hear they're great and fix some stuff
but I just want to be enough
I don't want to be zombified
that just makes me mortified
so I will argue for our right
to just be different, that's our fight
so we have too much energy
and are lacking synchronicity
people can't keep up with us
some with Tourettes often cuss
wild ideas spinning out
enthusiastic scream and shout
and they just want to structure me
to fit me in their society
this is how it's supposed to be
well sorry dude, that just ain't me
I just want creativity
and redefining normalcy
that box just will not fit us all
sorry but it's just too small
we were made so limitless
it's time for us to be fearless
breaking out to be our own
we discover the unknown

Ode to bill
What a thrill
He makes me laugh till my voice is shrill
I don't need a happy pill
When his face is forcing mine to smile against my will.
Groundhogs day
What a play
On how I feel everyday
Repeating time until it strays
To be the same thing in every way.
What about bob?
Can't you see?
He's making me smirk at MY mental instability.
Baby steps
Fake Tourettes
Getting under someone's skin
And yet
Being loved by all the rest.
Who am I going to call
For the busting of ghosts?
I know a number to dispose
Bill has this **** on lock
As he sarcastically lifts his stock
Of zapping tools and his beige frock.
Zombieland
Of course he stands
Among the living and the ******.
Smoking up with strangers is grand
And replaying his films best moments.
In real life
He appears in random sight
Stealing fries and giving love advice.
Too careless to live up to the lime light
Using his fame to live an extraordinary life.
Oh bill Murray
You're a champ.
I hope to adopt your perspective rants
Make my mind go full blast
Of being the best at being lax.
Monotone and so relaxed
I'd buy him a shot if I had the chance
Tequila despite everyone else's request
Your bar tending skills are still the best.
Feeling laughter rise in my chest
Just keep doing what you do
No one else can contest.

Shut up.
Shut up.
Shut up.
SHUT UP.

Can't you just be quiet?
Keep your ignorant trap shut?
Demanding you stupid little fantasies
Which no one can afford?

Can you just stop yelling? shut up
I just need some quiet. shut up
I just need to finish this. shut up
I just need to talk to you. SHUT UP

Can I please have a civil conversation with you?
Without you talking over me?
I feel like I have Tourettes
Repeating myself in bursts and splurges that don't make sense.  

Please just shut up.
Please just listen to me.
Christ no wonder I hate you.
No wonder I feel I'm not free.

*shutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutup

it's been a year.
It's been a year and I think about the torn-up pieces of paper I used to hide in your room with notes scribbled in purple pen. I wonder about the last letter I ever wrote you. I asked you to remember all the little things that made us—the simplicities of our routine, the days that were for us to know. I asked you to remember me, but it's been a year and I don't remember who she was. It makes me sad to miss the girl that was yours, the girl you used to love.
I wake up early now. I prefer French press coffee but still love the hazelnut creamer. Coffee mate is better than delight. I make my bed almost every morning and I'm a big fan of house slippers. I drink lots of water but I need lemon flavoring in it. I haven't bought milk in months. I study at the kitchen table and never use my desk, I have a house plant that I've kept alive. I still have those singing tourettes you always mocked me for, and no I haven't finished the books I said I would. I listen to podcasts, I'm learning more about myself daily. I have new friends that you've never met. My favorite song is from an artist I didn't get the chance to show you. My mom got married, and we're not as close anymore. My sister has a new boyfriend and he's moving in with us. I don't drink at home very often, but when I do it's always wine. I have lived alone for the past few months, and I've become well acquainted with myself. I love my space, I love my solitude. I still play that one song by the Manchester orchestra, and it still makes me think of you. I don't check your profile as much anymore, but I see you're happy and my heart smiles for you. I miss your dog and your backyard and your sister, but I've mastered the art of grieving. There's still love for you in this heart of mine. I still look for your face in the front window of every gray Honda Civic, your license plate is still memorized. I'm not the girl you met in 2018, I'm not the girl you lost last spring. There are parts of me that with you I couldn't show. There are parts of me you'll never get to know.

Thank God.