Humans are boring—
I much prefer cats.
Humans are careless—
I much prefer myself.
Humans are dangerous—
I much prefer tools of destruction.
Humans are annoying—
I much prefer rocks.
Humans are alive—
I’m much more dead.

I’m numb.
I’m another breath
Of fertilized air.
And it’s important—
So important
That it’s cool, sweet air.

Important to know,
That I struggle, too.
That it’s easy to feel
The pangs of life’s blessings
Stinging in my side.

Fragile as a vase,
Filled to the brim with flowers.
But the thorns always say,
My strength will fail anyway;
Give up now and be happy.

And shattered I lay
Among shards smaller than mine.
And I struggle with more
And struggle with less
And the difference between the two.

You’re the bottle given,
And you hold my key.
You unlock happiness,
Release wellness,
And I see and hear me again.

I’ve never been
Content and mild,
But today I feel anew.
Today I have the green,
And the air,
And the chance to be
With you.

Every once in a while
Someone calls me.
The phone rings on and on,
It’s piercing frequency
Scratching at my ears.

My mouth falls under its control
And I answer, “Hello?”
But the other line isn’t just one,
It’s too many to count,
Too many to hear at once,
I can’t access the circuit board
Flip the switches,
My clumsy hands tied to the fingers above.

I do as they demand
And I am rung again;
It’s you. Always—
Always you.
And I learn that my enemy
Is the shadow behind me.

Puncture the field

And harvest the crop
 from
my weak arm. 

It’s of no use to me—

Take whatever you need. 

No matter the nutrients,

Or warming qualities,

It will cease to bring me

Back to strong life. 

Perhaps planted in

A stranger’s unscathed arm,

It will actually do more good 

Than everlasting harm.

I want to feel something more
Than mere memories dancing,
Prancing behind my eyes.
To remember is almost to forget,
To forget the essence the
Moment soaked and basked in.
Wipe my slate clean,
Morning,
Morning,
Morning,
For the view from over my shoulder
Is only a reminder that I am
An ever changing wind
Blowing every which way.
Lost and hiding,
I’d rather know not there was a past at all.

Fuck the bitch who put me there,
Behind the metal bars of the
Mentally tripped up—drugged up,
But fuck me twice for giving her
The control and the power
To put me where I needed to be.

And too bad no one will know
That their perfect queen might decide
That they too shall be beheaded,
Brains scrambled into her feast,
For she loathes complication
And hides it in her teeth.

I sit in her stomach,
Seemingly free from her fanged bars,
And I hope that my bitterness
Remains hard for her to digest,
And that she’s still afraid of my scars,
So I can feast upon her sanity,
Starting from the inside out.

I am the tree in the yard,
Standing tall, but isolated
Sometimes the wind will blow
And pieces of me will find themselves
Immersed in a world of
Flowers, leaves and grass
And I forget, perhaps just for a minute,
That I have nothing that will last
Longer than the wind will blow.

I’m the molten earth stuck between
The crust and the core,
Feeling the cool, feeling the heat
Feeling my flesh singe and soothe
With every glance towards you.

Ah, you lucky flower,
Taking the sweltering heat
And making it nourishment
You grow and flourish
And I, I grow weak and
Worrisome that I am stunted
By the wholesome lack of protein
In your pollen that the bees
Bring to my dying fruit.

Poisoned again and again,
Singed by the disease
You have planted, festering inside me,
Nurturing those companions
With a false sense of importance
All to make me die more and more
As you live on and on.

a support group for people who began using popular slang ironically but now cannot stop

(Source: biologytextbook)

I’d love to have a wedding
But that’d mean my family would come too.
And I plan on staying far away from them
For near them clouds always loom.
Maybe I’ll find a guy
Who hates his family too
And we can marry with all our close friends
Living the life of bride and groom.

Walk through the mud and muck and mildew,
Perhaps find what’s left of knowledge,
And if you find it return it to me.

Watch for those intruders that lurk and lure,
With intentions to make my brain stronger,
Now all they do is make it seep through the cracks.