four point five

is it worth it, to try

when they look in

your eyes

staring straight ahead

never planning for future

motives of the undead

saving $ for your sutures

is it worth it, to struggle

to finally have the time 

give a death rattle 

instead of a war cry

breath lines into a page

making it, getting by

bones so cold, body so swollen

are you sure you're not a corpse? 

tripping out his last moments

a slideshow, a montage 

of all youve ever done (its not a lot)

yr family yr friends and yr loved ones (not many left)

are you sure?

are you sure, that this will be your end?

wet winter

i'm still waiting for your plane, taxi, car, train. i can’t keep waiting, just go. please leave. that motormouth will take you wherever you want, whirring and buzzing along, the occasional stutter or single syllable speedbump the only thing that stops you.

i don’t have much in comparison to you. full of thunderclouds and dreams and dissatisfying satisfactions. tiny little drips of words drip drop, drip drop, until suddenly good old indy comes sprinting through, giant rolling sphere hot on his trail like a bowling ball knocking down all the pins of resistance.

then it’s not a drip, it’s a flood, and i’ll fucking drown you in me.

bumping down the road, teeth gnawing through your lips. there’s a canyon up ahead, but you don’t look at the forest for the trees. don’t worry, i’ll catch you, for the crags and the spires and the danger at the bottom will turn to dust at my wish.

reality. oh my roiling, lazy guts filled with nothing but instamessage bloops and noxious coffee grounds. that’s nothing that anyone (anyonemeaningyouormeoryouoranyone) wants to see.

world is a stage

the burning hot shame

why would you think you could be like them?

put yourself aside, step back

your contribution is best done in the wings

its known you're not built for center stage

stage left, 

or stage right

why do you think you'll amount to that?

your work is of the sidelines

dust and debris contributing to the energy of brightly lit stars

be the best kept secret theyll ever know

setting up beams to hold a whole scene

take off that heart on your wrist, put it on ice

support support and don't choke on your own creations

crawling their way out of your ribcage, under your skin 

try to forget your roots, the nerves anchoring flesh to feeling

stare out to the cement walls and cobblestone, scream as loud as you can

no one made out of soft clay like you will ever come help

stained hands and aching bones

aching groups and stained streets

making you so different and so similar

it all blends into something grey