skulldugery

well i've wrecked up some debt
i'm a little unkempt
i would like to be kept
like, collar on neck
so i don't feel so bereft
cause i'm looking forward to death
cause i've done enough meth
i'm not looking my best
i wish i needed to rest
there's too much swell in my breast
yet they respond to your breath
there's a pen on my crest
but i don't feel very blessed
i hate being what you've got left
but i guess i made my own mess
i stay in constant distress
cause i won't look for a mistress
cause even though i'm dickless
i need some dick for christmas
is there a list? bitch, yes
hard pass on jason sedakis
but i'd fuck with jadakiss
oh fuck, jada pickett smith
damn, honestly, all the smiths
what y'all know about the sith?
cause i don't know a lick of it
i'm glad y'all find that relevant
....cause i'm too busy out here chasin dick
i just i wish i wasn't so accidentally celibate
out here actin like i'm some kind of delicate
as if i need a delegate, someone a lil more elegant
or maybe a little more relegant.
or maybe a little less melanin
represented by someone with lighter skin
actin like i have to sink or swim
or to succeed, i have to drown my kin
claw my way to the top in this world we're living in
but always make sure to have that one white friend
so i can more easily pass through clubs we're in
because somehow it's so much easier blending in
when i ... surround myself with less melanin
decide i'm much less elegant...
until they realize i'm more militant
i don't believe that i am heaven sent
but allow me to be a kind of delegate:
try tossing out a little merit, eh?
it ain't all about purity
but it ain't all purely buggery
it's all gotten a bit muddled, see?

juzz

bursting forth with a raw kind of spunk
but feeling defiled by a spasmatic twunk
without darkness, there can be no light
but baby, i'm running out of will to fight
i've seen how you fight, before i would bow
but the tables will turn, i'm that Dowager Cow
i can be passed off, talked over, or sometimes bought
but i surely refuse to be your second thought
give me a sign, reach out, i'm here!
(but i look for your return with certain fear)
i know we're not over, i'll see you again
but i was far too in love to be just a friend

and i o o p

come vandalize what i thought was meant to be
come clambor in my endless ecstasy
if i ramble, keep close and cuddle these
trundle on through bushes, try not to freeze.
fickle, fondling for a taste of breeze,
try not to eat my dust but you could with ease
if i abuse you,  tasting the release
we might soon find a need to compete.

butting heads, arguing for not
lost in our language, tangled up in thought.
i'm bumbling, broken, begging for blood
i'm stumbling, staggering, trying to be understood
if i flop on my face, can you still gather the goods?
i care far too much cause you showed me i should -
i don't know what comes next but maybe you do
i don't deserve your reckless nonetheless mending glue

i'm too broken and empty to give you my best
i'm rather unkind, i don't know when to rest
i wish we could unwind in this infinite jest
but i'll remain unsigned if i suck at your breast
i think i'm too blind to handle your test
you need a whole lemon, not my silly pink zest
i need to hide these wrists but i'm stuck with a vest
if you brought what you need, i could build a neat nest
my heart is too full, your soul i will bless
i hope i'll console you even though i'm the mess
i'll keep to myself, i'm too affectionate to digress
i know who i am, i'm not going back to the dress

and i'm glowing in effervescent adoration of you
i'm greatly amused by the many but fully compulsed by the few
and the memory of your hair, like fairies' morning dew
sends me into a fiendish frenzy of mellowly mourning you,
instead of the anger and eternal scorning of you,
i think i'll withdraw from this emotional queue
cause i'm a helluva suitor, but i need my space
and i'm so fucking tired of running this race
and i'm so fucking tired of trying to keep pace
then again, it's all worth it when i see your dumb face

i might be too new to keep up the game,
i'm too terribly enthused at breaking your brain
my policy is firm, i've never been the same
it must be the formula for aching for fame
but i never quite know which boundaries to keep
no matter how you smile, for you i will weep
i love diving under but your cavern's too deep
i know how to climb but your mountain's too steep

and if i ask what you think of me, just lie to my face
i'll pay the fee, i know how to hurt, i am unashamed
i don't mind if you yell, i will not complain
but feed me your fury, and i'll feed you my rain
collapse in my glory, so i can scream out in pain
if i don't say something, the tears might just stain
and if you remember, there's no need to regret
i'm a damn libra rising, my needs are offset
i take back what i said, my needs are not met
i'll do myself, so i won't have to cum less
here in this song is where i confess
you smell like home, yet remind me i need to be free
but when i'm around you, what shouldn't i be?
i'll provide and support however you see fit
but if you bark at me, then you're gonna get bit

i'm culpable, capable of handling your woes
just remember to invite me to wave at your shows
you can ride my highs while i lift up your lows
but please do dip in just a little more than your toes

keep the light on?

galaxies intertwine in your feverish eyes
forged in the fires of familial ties
sanguine in solitude, but socially refined
to poke a needle in the public's eye.
i thought i'd be reckless, give it the college try
hungry for a slice of your schizoaffective pie
before settling down in a place to die
when i blast out west on this adventure of mine
i hope you recognized all the signs
the weird things i did to show you i care
when you're clowning around, i can't help but stare
i'm already lost in the idea of you
and i know what i checked out is long past due
just let me pretend, at least for a night
that a future for us may always burn bright.

bled

if i remain sweltering in this winter waste

i can't continue starving, hoping for a taste.

if i can't have you, it'll have to be okay

i'll just go back to being a gay bay-bay.

i'm wrestling with how to begin anew

swallowing these lustful thoughts of you.

i can't just settle down with Some Ole DudeTM

i've just come to terms with my own solitude

thinking: some day, surely, i'll get to tie the knot

!! that's what's making me surly: my loyalty's been bought!

jagged edges

if i have to step back to align my faith,
allow me then to deny my fate
i've kept to roaming, to trying to get better
to keep my feelings tamed to a letter
i'm fully dedicated to hearing my self
allow me to fight up this muddy hill for wealth
if i copiously confess to confounded convention
then how will i find my own reinvention?
confusedly searching for a new circumvention?
i hope you're ready for a dumb intervention
i can barely live without attention
i'm sorry...
i think that's something i should have mentioned...

soot - 2

Even though he's been here more than three times a week for the past five months, the barista still gives him a bored once-over as Arthur steps up to the counter and rolls his eyes. "What can I get started for you today?"

Art pretends to give a quick glance at the menu, as if he isn't going to get the same "Mocha Frappe with no whipped cream, no mocha, with a shot of espresso." He thinks about texting Cece, thinks better of it.

She'll show when she shows. A quick glance around the room after getting his chilly caffeine reveals that she still hasn't arrived. He makes a move for a table pressed against the window, across from a heavily tatted medical student pouring over piles of papers.

He plops down, pressing his purple notebook onto the table as he shrugs his jacket off. He carefully rolls up the flannel sleeves and flips the notebook open. He thumbs to a pink paper clip and glares down at the empty schedule template, now yellowing with use and various food stains.

Fifteen minutes of meticulously copying the chart, he's become lost in his work. He doesn't spy Cecelia standing in line and actually jumps a little when she plops her oversized purse on the table. "Oh, boy, wait until you hear about the absolute bullshit she's been saying now..."

Arthur smiles a little, marking Jenny for Friday mornings even though she absolutely did not believe they needed a host on Friday mornings, which was funny because when she was serving, she most certainly made it known how upset she was that they didn't have a host at the door. He was high-key hoping she'd quit.

"Oh? Surely it can't be any worse than last week when she insisted that she cheated because you made her do it." Arthur remarks, taking a long sip of his coffee, blinking up through innocent eyelashes.

"Oh fuck off, you know she was just rolling her ass off and Sheena was fresh out of a break-up, one that you had quite the hand in but I guess you forgot all about that. No, she thinks that we should get another dog! Another dog! As if there isn't already enough shit to pick up around that zoo..."

As Cecelia launches into the reasons that she and her ex-fiance/landlord/chiropractor do not need to get another dog - a sentiment which Arthur agreed with, given their pack of seven - he allowed his mind to wander back to that break-up that he very much did cause last week. On accident, of course, but still his fault all the same.

You never know who you'll end up making out with in the darkness of a twenty-four seven gay club.

You also never know who might happen to walk over just when things are getting very touchy-feely on the dance floor of said gay club.

Needless to say, once Cece found out, she'd been quick to let Arthur know that what he had done was wrong, because it had somehow created a domino effect for Sheena, a recovering lesbian, to fall back down the pink rabbit hole, right into the arms of a Home Alone Helen who had been re-decorating the house with blowed-out pupils when Sheena appeared that afternoon, shivering in the rain.

Arthur is beginning to hit the snooze button, as Cece has only ever needed a listening ear to figure out her own problems. Two conversations six years ago was all Arthur needed to realize he was a backboard so she could serve balls to herself. She didn't want any advice he had to offer, she already had the answers. She just needed to take her own steps. A "really?" here and a "but how?' there went a long way with Cece.

"...which is why it's so stupid that she chose this weekend because my nephew is in town for his art show and I'm already worried about how the dogs are going to act because they've never been around ferrets before. I mean, do dogs and ferrets get along? Will he let the thing just run around? I have nothing against ferrets, I just don't know where he can keep it. Maybe we can put it in the basement?"

Arthur's eyes have snapped back into focus as he's suddenly watching her very closely. "I think if your nephew is visiting and bringing his ferret, it's safe to say he isn't gonna be okay with keeping her in the basement." Arthus pops the lid off his drink to take a big gulp. His cheeks are warm and he's suddenly found himself very thirsty.

Cece gives him a weird look, taking a candid photo of him to undoubtedly update her fanatic followers. Cece had been the bar manager of All Sizzle, No Steak for six years, following a cold-feet wedding stunt in Huntsville. She'd started out there as  a server and when her emotionally reckless now-roommate realized she didn't have time to manage a rag-tag group of misfits to building an all-vegan restaurant/bar, dipped on their wedding and workplace to run off with a skydiving artist from Nashville. Luckily, Cece had already become the defacto den mother, so Jimmy was more than happy to promote her when they realized Helen wasn't coming back.

Helen eventually came back, as she always does.

"How did you know she was female?" Fuck, why does she have to be such a Virgo?

Arthur accidentally lets the silence go too long.

Cece's eyes widen. "Oh my fuck, you met him didn't you? He's a little fucking prick but he's a genius. You have to see his paintings, they're fucking surreal."

Arthur's head is swimming. Too much information to process. Just before coming in here, he'd decided the redhead had been a fever dream, just the tail end of another sleepless night rolling into the day. A beautiful hallucination he'd never be able to forget.

"He didn't seem so bad to me." Art shrugs, trying to look casual as he takes another sip of coffee.

Cece's eyebrows raise and she's suddenly glaring at him with glittering green eyes. "Arthur Tennyson London. Don't even think about it."

Art smiles out of the corner of his mouth and peers at her as he lowers his coffee. "I'm quite sure I don't know what you mean."

"Artie, I'm serious. This is an off-limits kind of situation, there is so much you don't know. God, I should have known he'd do this again..."

Arthur's eyebrows are furrowing now, more serious than curious. "Do what again?"

"Well, I guess it doesn't matter now. You're an adult, you can find out on your own." She's standing up and Arthur looks up, worried she'll leave before he can ask more questions about her beautiful nephew. Visiting? Art Show? Emotional baggage? What more could a provocative water-bearer want?

"What do you mean it doesn't matter now? Aren't you going to- Ahhhhhhh, HeLLLO." Arthur finishes his sentence with a much-too-loud greeting as he's turning in his chair to see why Cece has gotten out of her chair.

That hair. Arthur is entraced as the man of his dreams (literally -  he'd seen the stranger do a kickflip 890 off of a giant scoop of strawberry ice cream last night) strolls toward them, completely ignoring the barista who has perked up and is bouncing on his toes to greet the stranger.

He's wearing a different jacket today, though the sleeping ferret still rests on his shoulders, this time in a purple vest. An artist never repeats an outfit. Then: Shut up, Arthur, that's not the moral of the story here. Oh fuck, he's looking at you, you have to say something. Anything!

"Nice boots. An artist never repeats an outfit, right?"

The stranger glances down at the calf-high patent leather boots and smirks, tongue sticking slightly out of his mouth. He gives Cece a tight hug and curt kiss on the cheek before sitting down in her seat across from Arthur. She frowns and huffs, stepping around him to sit in the seat by the window, pulling out her phone.

"I'm not sure I can agree with that. It would be economically silly to not wear your clothes again. Aren't they meant for wear and tear?"

Arthur, likely emboldened from listening to Cece ceaselessly ramble for an hour, is quick for the volley. "I don't know if you can use 'economically' and 'silly' in the same sentence. I think it's an oxymoron."

The smirk gets bigger.  "Well, sure, but do you think the capitalistic society really pushes us to use, use, use and waste waste waste? Or is it not trying to give us hope, train us up and spit out those who can't hack it?"

"Can't really tell if you're trying to deny planned obsoletion which is absolutely a thing or argue that capitalism actually provides fair opportunities to everyone, which is simply not true."

The man leans down to place his chin on his hands which he's poitely folded on the top of the table. "So you're saying that artists making art out of whatever they can didn't first have the opportunity to seize that vision? They were somehow afforded the opportunity to create and continuously choose to change clothes every day because an artist never wears the same outfit?" Those haunting blue eyes bore into him.

Arthur is warm all over. He feels it especially in his neck, warming where his Adam's Apple should be. It's the last of his surgeries. He wants it to be over with, though he knows he passes well. No one even misgenders him anymore. Why would they? He has a full beard, a standard bulge, and a flat flat flat chest. Years of focus, struggle, and sacrifice brought him to where he is today. He fully intends to carpe his diem.

Say it. Say It. Say It. SAY it. SAY IT.

"Well, with an art partner like me, you wouldn't need anything but the one outfit anyway because you'd be naked in my house all day."

"Alright, I think that's my cue. I'll see you boys later." Cece rolls her eyes as she makes a big show of leaving the table, kissing the stranger on the top of the head. "Don't  get into too much trouble, Dustin."

It's now Arthur's chance to smirk. "Yes, Dustin, don't get in too much trouble."

Dustin is staring across the table at him, with an unreadable expression. Arthur is suddenly very aware of how forward he's dove. It was playful before, just jabs back and forth at the other's ability to think on the spot. This is the first time Arthur's actually hit on him. Why did you have to hit on him like that, you dumbass? Now he's gonna run and you'll never see him again and people will watch you slink out of the shop with that stupid look on your

"Bold of you to assume I'm a neophile. What if I'm terribly afraid of new experiences?"

For the first time, there's a tug of vulnerability in the artist's piercing glance. Arthur softens, like cheese on a burger and leans in slightly to murmur. 

"I can show you the world."

Dustin smirks and leans in. Arthur gets a quiet whiff of Little Miss Sierra Godiva, who smells of baby soap and fur. He's in sensory overload and doesn't know where his own aura stops and Dustin's begins.

"Shining shimmering splendid?"

Arthur grabs him by the chin.

moot - 1

He exhales a long puff, a gaseous mixture of breath and carcinogens billowing across the alleyway. It's too small, of course. He knew it would be when he bought the building. He couldn't help it though - it was too good of a location to pass up. There would be nothing but business during both the summer and winter months, due to the proximity to local housing for when the students of the booming college town inevitably left to spend their school breaks frolicking their youth away.

As he's childishly trying to blow a smoke ring with the cancerous smoke, his eyes dart to a figure ducking up the alley. Art coughs suddenly, spit dribbling down his chin as he locks eyes with the stranger. The thin man approaching him smirks and gives Art a pointed once-over as he continues strutting up the walk.

The man is too tall, bent over at the shoulders as if to make himself appear smaller. He has light copper hair that is piled on the top of his head, tendrils wisping around his reddened face, nose pink from exposure to the strong winter wind. The man's hands are stuffed in the pockets of an olive green bomber jacket that has black stripes running up the arms.

What Art thought was an oversized scarf slowly reveals itself to be the form a ferret, sporting a tiny red sweater, snoozing against the back of the man's neck. Art's mouth falls open slightly at the sight as the man gets closer and closer.

Say something, you idiot.

"You smoke?" Art cleverly blurts, holding out the half a cigarette he'd all but forgotten staring at this beautiful stranger.

The redhead pauses and glances down at Art's outstretched hand. Art's heart is racing. He hopes it isn't audible.

"When the urge strikes." His voice isn't nearly as deep as Art had expected. It's whimsical, throaty, and looming. Each word sounds calculated, sensuous. Art's so busy trying to get the man's hum out of his head that he doesn't see what the stranger's doing.

He's leaned down and is taking the cigarette from Art's hand. He'd only been holding it at waist level, a half-hearted offering that he was sure would be denied. The stranger is now bent at the waist, peering up at Art with terribly crystal blue eyes, lips brushing Art's fingertips as he takes a drag.

Art's cheeks warm with the intimacy of the moment. You dumbass, there isn't anything intimate about this. He's just fucking with you. He knows you're interested. This is just a tease, this is just a tease, this is just

"You come around here often, Eric?"

Art looks around as he takes a drag from the cigarette to fill the space. His leg has begun jittering and, to his dismay, he notices the cigarette tastes like fucking strawberry chapstick.

"I'm sorry?"

The man smirks again and holds out his hand for the cigarette. "That's what I've decided to call you since you've decided to stare at me instead of introduce yourself."

Art's cheeks get warm again and he thanks his ancestral gods for the seven hundreth time for his dark complexion. He would have never made it this far if people could see how often he blushed. Well, that's what he tells himself anyway.

"Oh, fuck, my bad. I'm Arthur. Arthur London." He reaches a hand out to shake, second-guesses it and casually moves his hand up to rub the back of his neck as if hoping his action wouldn't be noticed.

It is. The man's eyes follow Art's hand on its whole journey and he gives another smirk. It's a smile with secrets. "Well, Arthur London, I have to get Little Miss Sierra Godiva home before we both freeze to death in your alleyway." He's already backing away, cigarette in hand. "Thank you ever so kindly for the smoke." He gives a grandiose bow, nearly dislodging the sleeping Sierra who gives a sleepy snort.

The weird little fire of hope that had sparked in the pit of his stomach when he'd first seen the stranger began to flicker. Don't lose him! He didn't even tell you his name! This could be big! This Could Be Big! This Could Be Big SABOTAGE SABOTAGE SABOTAGE ALERT ALERT MAYDAY MAY 

"But will I ever see you again?" He calls out, realizing how pathetic he must look, a chubby twenty-something queer black man standing between his two green dumpsters panting in the cold like a bitch in heat after a random encounter with a sexy stray.

Okay, we really need to unpack those kinks someday, buddy.

The man laughs (actually laughs!) and it has a ringing quality to it, like the bells Arthur played during his childhood church's Christmas service. His voice sounds like all of the bells, in a haunting ringing kind of way.

"Oh, this is only the beginning, Artie." The man is still walking away, waving an arm over his shoulder as his words echo back toward Art.

Arthur blinks a few times. He looks down and kicks at the dumpster to make sure he's not dreaming. The pain shoots to the front of his foot just as he remembers he's not wearing his steel-toe boots and he hops around with cartoonish fervor, cursing himself.

This is only the beginning, Artie.

The words boggle around in his brain all day until he finally tricks himself into slumber.

Reading - K 2 J - 11/4

I didn't include the stuff we already talked about, just went into detail for the little lines I had to scope out! I didn't put in any of the bad stuff but there really wasn't anything major :) Enjoy, Ms. Jackie!!!

Displaced Mount Of Mercury - excellent sense of humor and eloquent speaker, you express yourself very well!

We both have this!! Displaced Mount Of Venus (under the thumb) - this person has an ability for rhythm, and an interest in music and dancing, usually a talent for both

Lines running parallel on the Lower Mars and Mount of Venus under the thumb) are called Lines of Influence and show people who have a strong influence on your life. The deeper the line, the deeper the connection.

A square on the Mount of Venus (closer to the bottom of the palm) acts as protection against risky involvements and heartbreaks. Natural emotional protection!

The Upper Mount of Mars (halfway down the palm, underneath the pinkie) leans toward the Mount of the Moon, indicating that this person will have a meekness of spirit, tremendous patience and a tranquil nature. They will be endowed with hypnotic powers that enable them to influence others, even though they are not aware of those powers. They are often very independent.
The Upper Mount of  Mars is also overdeveloped which means you may not fight physically. This is a mark of intelligence; you will not be afraid to stand up for your rights. You are an inventor, a pioneer, and you love gambling.

The Lower Mount of Mars (just above the thumb, lined up with the index finger) is displaced toward the Mount of Jupiter (right underneath the index finger) to indicate the power of initiative action and ambition, due to your personal dignity and pride.

A cross on the Mount of the Moon (across from the thumb, near the heel of the palm) indicates you could go to extremes easily. You are excitable and have exaggerated views on some things.

----

When your Heart Line curves up between the Mount of Jupiter and Saturn at the base of those fingers, it indicates a sentimental person, but one who shows a little more common sense when dealing with loved ones. The curve of the line is still an exaggeration of the Heart Line, which makes you generous and caring.

If the Heart Line has a large, strong branch line falling to the Head Line and merging itself into the line, this indicates that the heart has surrendered and you will be ruled by your head.

If the Heart Line has a branch rising to the Mount of Saturn, it indicates you'll be attracted to someone of Saturnian qualities such as scholarly, scientific, mining, or horticultural aptitudes. You love a person who is sober, cautious and has wisdom.

When the Head and Life Lines show a small gap between them, it indicates your independence coming early in life. You are not afraid to stand alone. You are self-contained and self-starters. If you have an ambitious nature, you are likely to achieve it without outside help.

When you Head Line slopes toward the Mount of the Moon and is long and strong, you will be a sensible, self contained person with a good imagination.

Your Success Line (underneath the ring finger, extending from the bottom of the palm) is wavy, which means you will not know whether to choose a career. You are brilliant and talented, but have trouble going forward in one direction. The line becomes stronger when it reaches the Mount of Apollo which means you will accomplish a career as you become older.

You have cutting-bars that interfere on the Line of Success which are caused by various problems. The bars, however, are little fine lines, which mean they are only annoying interference that cause worry. These problems will be easy to surmount with patience.

----

Many Crosses scattered over the palm are Psychic or "Witches" Crosses, the hand of an old soul. These people are in tune with the future and have psychic ability.

Because the Quadrangle (space between Heart & Head Lines) is wider under the Mount of Apollo, you are sensitive about your reputation and public opinion You are very careful of your public image and want to always give a good impression of yourself.

crestwail

i witnessed and had to apologize
so i, alone, could recognize
what you have since begun to help me realize
my thoughts, i need to analyze
i should really have tried to sympathize
i just really need to emphasize
i don't feel the need to tell more lies
you'll never know how fast time flies
i feel a little lobotomized
i guess it really is about the size

---

if i ask for more, will you beg me to stop?
if i crash on your floor, can i cum in your sock?
i've barely just broken out of my cage
so long as i swallow desire and scratch out a page
maybe, one day, we two can try out the stage
i know you've always been all the rage

stomping, clomping

famously fetid and lost in the sauce
waylayingly wettish and seeking a boss
bottom black boy with tendencies to switch
searches out sadist who knows more than this:
i might be the best but my best ain't much;
i'll respond to your words and return your touch.
i see you picking women who try to confuse
while i only accept neglect and abuse
we're both flawed, sure, and broken to boot
we could talk for more hours than i'll ever compute
i'm swallowing the desire to call out your name
i wish you would allow me to fan your flame
i can't help what i want and neither can you
just let me be around when you're feeling blue

and i know ... that i'm ... a wreck
i just want ... your hands ... around my neck
i;ve tried to be subtle ... but i ... suspect
i'm in for another ... tornado...of neglect

i can be your pink diamond, help you laugh for days
i wish you would let me bathe in your rays
i'll scream out the loudest when you take the stage
your control of your own power sends me into a rage
so when my heart starts pounding, i have to scribble out a page
you've shown me your magic, i know you're a mage
so why do you insist on staying in that dull cage?
i could be your own maverick, i could bring us some sage
the good people have had it, slaving for minimum wage
why am i always so manic when i see your sweet face?
i'm sorry i'm so bad at keeping the pace
i'm horny as a rabbit when i drink from your bass
i feel like a savage when we're running this race
i'm not just a fad, baby wait til i get my own place

and i know ... that i'm ... a wreck
i just want ... your hands ... around my neck
i;ve tried to be subtle ... but i ... suspect
i'm in for another ... tornado...of neglect

popped

hardly adapted to the reckoning
irresistible to certain beckoning
this silence is almost deafening
like and endless hole of ketamine
i'm soothed, supple, slipping into slumber
while you sweat, toil, and lay out your lumber
i want to support you, be your frame
but i want you to want to say my name
i've lived backstage, i'm behind a scene
but i might just be ready for the screen
to soon be heard, to soon be seen
soon, i guess, you'll see what i mean
for now, i'll get lost in this endless dream
way out in the cosmos where they can't hear me scream

sadical

i've wondered before if you know my name
so i've climbed aboard the s.s.s. fame
let's set sail and see the world
come one, come all, come give us a twirl
i won't insist because i've learned my lesson
but i think i'm quite ready for your smith and wesson
locked and loaded, your chamber is cocked
i'm peeking down the barrel, hoping to get popped
you awaken my brain, force me out of bad habits
soon, i'm sure, you'll teach me to cut up a radish
i shouldn't hold out hope that you'll choose me
cause it's 'fun' being single - i can't wait to die free!

FELT UP

redirect the energy:
calm the mind
succ in my synergy
(you're all mine)
i should be relenting
i should be forgiving
i wish i were receiving
i wish i weren't bleeding
i should keep receding
i should stop repeating
i wish you did believe me
i wish you could relieve me
(this is just a whine)
just let me indulge
let me fill my void
please lead me to the bulge
of some bi-curious boi
i know what i want,
i'm anxiously searching
til then my dripping cunt
dries out, unworthy.

???

patchy, plastered, poly, and puckered
we wish and pray for unholy fuckery
while you wallow and wane for overwhelming waves
your perspective can change, made to remain
in the same dull game
trying to wish, to relay, and maintain
take my skin graft to change up my game
i'll never be the same
i'm hungry for the fame
i'm more than manmade
do some digging, but bring a spade
i will shine and not fade
like the marquis de sade
i've chosen a different blade
take me on a date
let's embrace our fate
i  finally took the bait
i'm filled with a little hate
for the lies you masticate
just let me masturbate
and i'll open up the gate
i'm sorry for being late
i was busy looking for a mate
no, i don't wanna try your vape
i've got enough on my plate
come and clean off my slate
we'll be done by eight
when my eyes begin to dilate
i'll be ready to fornicate
i'll smirk at who you choose to berate
i think your humor's fucking great

burps

i wish i could hear you
i wish i was there
to attempt to soothe you
by brushing your hair
let's maniacally jest
til we're red in the cheeks
get lost in our language
then get lost in the sheets
i barely know you
but it feels like years
i'm not broken around you,
i forget all my fears.
you relax and sooth me
remind me i'm flawed
why won't you abuse me?
leave my black back all clawed?
i'm here if you need me
or if you notice me panting,
i'm a different kind of the seed
that fell in the pantry
but know when you come to feed,
please do so gallantly

syllabus

a little less lifted and a lot more dry
still feeling the world and unable to cry
let me down there, let me show how to fry
i promise to handle it, i promise to try

i'm manic but frugal
i want to give gifts
let me tickle your bugle
while you strum out a riff

time comes unhinged
when you walk in the place
you've left me all singed
hanging off the plate

i'm manic but mellow,
i've silenced my roar
i'll restring your cello
if you ask me for more

never give up
is what they scream in reply
fill up your cup
before you clean out your sty

i'm aching and arching my back in the sun
always remember to clean your gun

buck up, buttercup

glittering, bumbling, bearing the light
confounded by follies that induce flight
so as i escape into the night
make sure it's beautiful, buzzing, and bright
i will not cave when you try to fight
fuck me, it's so foreign to not feel fright

wish wish wish

mulling over meagerness
i'm bulbous but blissful
chugging down seagrams
pessimistic but wishful
why wont you grab my hair?
pull by the fistful?
instead i dream about you,
your promises - wistful.
i'm swollen with passion
i'm less than tasteful
i'll create what i can
so i won't be wasteful
i'm brimming over, bro!
i need that release
i know you aren't interested
so why must you tease?

middle found

playful pandering for pleas of pleasure
proudly prancing through fields of weather
whether it's broken, whether it's bright
we slowly turn to disappear from sight
let me coddle, caress, and cuddle you
while you smirk and shove and say we're through
cause now i know, just as well as you
that we might as well embrace the nude
i'll show you my soul, i'll show you my words
i've only felt cold from your musical birds
allow me to fumble, trip over myself
as i promise you a different kind of wealth

Linger

blasphemous bickering is best if banter
nevermind the meaningless maneuvering of matter
take me inside so you can sip on my woes
I'll try not to cry when facing your foes
I'm blistering, beaten, binding my time
searching for meaning at the end of a line
I'm wretched and empty now that you've gone
but at least I'll remember you here in this song
(musical riffs, drum stuff, slow melodic crooning)
I need you
I'll steal you
I feel you
I bleed blue
(slow down pace, return to first melody?)
bitter boys clamber to feel your eyes
but you turn them away after they lie
I'm sure one day you'll make a beautiful bride
if only it were me who could be by your side
I'm fueled by our fiction I can't begin to explain
I'm feeling a friction from fanning your flame
our melodic mixture disguised as your pain
I won't know how to feel until I taste the rain
the birds in the clouds remind me to fly
this isnt the end, this is not how I Die
(more riffs, a solo or something idk I don't know what I'm doing) (slow fade out, whisper/singing the """"chorus"""??)
I'll steal you
I feel you
I bleed blue

spent

gliding gracefully into the gallows
slyly stumbling into singled out shallows
we emerge, sweating, gasping for air
we blush, turn away, trying not to stare
as others pop up, like waves in the sea
as salt crash and corrode what used to be.
you keep 'moving forward' by stomping in the sand
never knowing you're boring, never knowing you're bland
cause absolute power corrupts, absolutely
and though the day is green, this is no time for dookie
don't be a nimrod when you're up to shenanigans
the sun burns through and through, the lights are on again.
we've opened shop, to embrace the lonely
too bad i'm broke, lost, and comely
maybe it's better that things went this way
maybe i should stop saying 'good day'
then again, there's power in saying NO
(plus i really don't wanna share my b l o w)
so for now, i'll keep chugging, until the day is spent
then wake up too late to do it all again

klutz

calamity prevails
while justice asails
i think i'm having a heart attack
when you don't hear me wail
as i struggle to fail
i think i've reached the end of my sack
like a rat chasing his tail
i forgot to post bail,
when can we get another pack?
i'm getting a little stale
from hoping for mmail
i wish you had some kind of tact.
i'm feeling up on your rail
like i'm trying to read braille,
fuck i hope i'm on the right track

the culling

i creep and creep,
hoping to be seen
my eyes will glitter
when i find a seam
to rip, to tear, to bite until
i've fed enough and had my fill
it's coming, right??
on this humid night
this errant fright,
this frightful flight
i've got the sight
oh please be right
give me the night
go to the light

if you live like 'shoot on sight'
i'll be your goddess of delight
i'll rule your kingdom of the night
and i'll never stop burning bright
we should do this, do this, do this right?
please stop ducking out of sight
better be careful cause i bite
but only if we're kind of tight
i'll protect you with all my might
but...i've never been in a fight?
kinda awkward, like i'm dwight
fuck a car, let's take a flight

adopted

sister? a brother?
a whole different mother?
searching for another?
are you an up-abover?
did you forget to pass the butter?
and y'all didn't use a rubber?
gotta make myself a flubber
so i can stop being a pay-stubber
gotta sweat off all this blubber
so i can find another lover

unsatisfied

squeamish and surly, i think i'm too early
your muscles are burly, got me unfurling
there's no such thing as girly, my gender is a swirly
i just wanna see what's inside a palm tree
i'll try my hand at palmistry
i dont need your fuckin ministry
i'm stylish in my memory
that manbun is so glimmery
cute boys make me jittery
i can't stop this soliloquy
come join me in my misery
check out this earrings - glittery
i'll give my own eulogy
while you snack on the brie
yeah, that's a type of cheese
you like my beard? thanks, it's the T
and alabama raised ya better pass the sweet tea
there's so much more to me
i need more for me

blast off

fuck the flavor, what's in the layers?
firing muh lasers, making that paper
i'll see you later, you still owe me a favor
i just wanna taste you, please pass the capers
i'll keep you safe, ah, i'm the cheapest labor, ah
pass the turkey baster, i just wanna savor
got my boots laced up, i'mma find a way out
i just wanna lay out, catch some sun and bake up
i don't wanna wake up, you got that liquid luck, ah
i used to watch harry potter, ah, patronus is an otter
i need a cap of water, like a lamb to the slaughter
i'm just your bullet fodder, you should really watch The Cobbler
i wanna learn to solder, i'm such a fuckin pothead
don't ever do delotted, unless you already got it
this ticket's hella modded, i wonder what the plot is?

uhh

bellowing soft, whispering roar
barely untossed, i think i need more
betting on the wind
think i can ascend
an all-together blend
these lessons will rescind
on messages i press send,
you might hear i like a benz
i'm caught up on the trends
except that i don't have friends
that will be there for my mend
they let me go out on these bends

think about yourself, and pick up a pen
write what you want to do moving forward,
what you gonna do to try to make it happen, how, and when
you wanna know what i did to make this all happen?
i listened to the wind


- naw, lemme think about it -

i might need to go back again
i chase after guys who look like fukn ken
but you know how i really like my men?
chubby, pepperoni nipples and barely five foot ten
i should really lay off all this zen
cause i'm flighty like a wren
-asking if i bite? ooohh, i think i can -
i'm not looking for a man
unless we're getting really tan
on a coast or an island
to watch me play volleyball in the sand
think you know me? ya i'm trans
yeah, i wasn't born a man
boosting up testorone, bumping down estrogen
genderfluid, really, i would prefer if you call me them
i swear on satan by it, written here in this hymn
-y'all my weed is busted, i'm still still picking out all the stems -

think about yourself, and pick up a pen
write what you want to do moving forward,
what you gonna do to try to make it happen, how, and when
you wanna know what i did to make this all happen?
i listened to the wind


i barely eat now and i'm never on a cleanse
i've been a server, dog, please stop taking all my pens
i'm barely a four cause i got the baby face, what the hell is up with all the tens?
i believe in karma, dog, so when will i start paying for all my sins?
i'm pretty sure i'm empath, cause when we're chillin, man i always got a sense
stop projecting your bullshit, cause you making me tense
man i hella miss the water, i swear i swim with fins
unless it's open water, then i'm sinking in
i think i need some water, i think i got the spins
life is all a game that we're dying to win,
before you out a friend, or go smokin in,
take the time to ask, where did this all begin?

think about yourself, and pick up a pen
write what you want to do moving forward,
what you gonna do to try to make it happen, how, and when
you wanna know what i did to make this all happen?
i listened to the wind


lemme scream wingapo daddy while we paint with the colors of the wind
seize the day if you type a text, just press send
i've had my heart broken too, just like you, i'm always on the mend
please hit me up if you think we be more than friends
but don't be afraid to tie me up and put me in a swing
i'm lookin for more than just a ring
i'm lookin for my eternal king
someone who i love, who is my everything
But like lizzo said i have everything inside of me
i am the king of me
i differ drastically
i'm so dramatically
mad at everything
you are my everything
i'm living here post-traumatically
please don't be mad at me
you're so drastically
boring me
i'm trying to live poetically
fuck living conservatively
y'all are ruining everything
i can't stand our economy 
but it's still a part of me
i hope i please you aestethically
i don't want a wedding registry
just take me out fukn thrifting
let's go out drifting
or maybe sand sifting
fuck, just be interesting 
don't forget that wedding ring
i'll be your wettest daydream
and you'll be all i see 
if you play ping pong, boy please
i'll beat you two out of three
support your local bumblebee
don't cut down those trees
i can't stop yelling
treat your kids ethically
don't do meth, smoke trees
let your body fly, let your soul out to breathe
don't be afraid and always listen to your dreams
never tell that there's something up your sleeve
i'm bad at staying, gettin good to sensing when to leave
always lost playing in the land of make believe

knife pretty

reddit writing prompt pt. 1

He stares out of the window, head in hand, as he hears snickering behind him. Joey's probably made some hilarious comment about Mr. Davidson's bald head again. Or maybe this time it's about his front-creased khakis. Maybe even something about the mysterious stain perched right over where Cody imagined his left nipple to be. It was probably perky, maybe had little brown hairs curling from pink flesh around it...

"...end up like Cody over there, brain cells bonged away, staring out into God knows, oh thank you for joining us Mr. Jones! I thought I had lost you to the pot gods above." The balding man chastised over the chortles of Cody's classmates, looking pleased with himself.

"You don't haffta be a dick about it." He grumbled, dramatically opening the thick textbook on his desk so the cover hit with a whap.

"As well as I'm sure that terminology would go in Principal Livingston's office, if you had been paying attention you would realize we're taking a break from the book today to do an exercise in self-reflection."

"I think your mirror's broken, doc." Mindy Richards called from the back, smacking her gum as she twirled a dreadlock around a perfectly manicured nail.

"A doctorate? Me? I'm flattered, Ms. Richards. No, today I'm asking you to look inward. Look at that place within yourself, the one that asks if you really want to send that third unanswered text or if you even like that coffee shop you've been to a million times." He was starting to walk around the classroom, glancing over shoulders and snatching phones when students weren't quick enough.

"We all have a chance to better ourselves and it's only through constant awareness that we can do that." He paused for dramatic effect and turned suddenly, slamming his hands on poor Cole Anderson's desk to roar "Constant Vigilance!" accidentally spitting on the poor redhead's glasses.

There was a long pause through the room as everyone shifted uncomfortably.

"Oh, what, like you guys haven't seen Harry Potter?" Mr. Davidson's face blushed a faint red. " Yikes, tough crowd.." He turned to fiddle with papers on his desk as students began giggling behind him.

"Today, class, we're going to take some time to reflect," He passed four stacks of papers to the students in the front row. "Your assignment this week is to write a letter to yourself. Think about what you're going through this week. Think about things you want to remind yourself of, maybe even ask yourself some questions. This assignment is about finding out who you are." The bell rang just as Mr. Davidson was inhaling for the big "be yourself" speech.

"Please, please try to take this one seriously, guys." He's trying to holler over the scraping of chairs and zumping and zippers. " Yes I will know if you faked it, yes I absolutely read every little assignment you turn in and yes, I realize you met the word requirement, Mr. Ponder but inserting the word 'booty' every fourth word after the first page doesn't exactly explain The Things They Carried quite well enough. Get me that rewrite by Monday."

The students had mostly filtered out, through there were always stragglers who struggled to put books in their bookbags. Cody Jones looked confused, as if he had been snapped out of some trance and he suddenly had to relearn how to use his limbs.

"Are you alright Cody? I didn't mean to sound harsh today, I thought we were having fun."

The teenager shrugged, shoving his math textbook aside so he could shove the papers in. He made a show of stuffing them to the bottom of the bag. "I don't really give a shit, I don't even smoke." He zipped up his bag and threw it on his desk so he could glare defiantly over the straps.

Mr. Davidson's eyebrows shot up and he licked his lips nervously. "I'm so sorry, Cody, I really didn't mean-"

He was already on the way out the door, calling over his shoulder.

"Oh, and Moody only says 'constant vigilance' in the books, ya fucking nerd."

xxxxxx

pestilence

his lips are becoming dryer by the minute. the ceiling fan whirs overhead, a steady knocking that keeps the beat going in his head. his foot has begun to tap, hesitantly, against the stiff pedal underneath the arch.

he couldn't have known this was what was happening today but he silently cursed himself for the twelfth time for wearing long sleeves. His arms were whirring and lashing, dark bolts of lightnings crashing into rocks that cried out in reply. Though sweat beads off his forehead and drips to the ground regularly, - he's tried to angle his head down so most of it hits the floor but he's definitely christened at least all of the drums thus far - he's yet to feel tired. The energy is surging through him with no remorse and he does not know if he can see himself stopping anytime soon.

The beat has consumed him, and he has gone so willingly. His body is changing now, starting with the outline of where he should be existing.

"...Monty? Monty, are you okay man?" The petite redhead that'd been dooteling on the keyboard was staring at him, squinting as she started to move off the bench.

"Yo, yo he does not look good yo, y'all need to give the man some space. He's just feelin' the beat, let em jam, yo."

"Splint, he looks like he's fuckin' fading in and out. Not like your kind of faded, but literally we need to tether him down before he gets out."

"What the hell're you talking about? It's just the lighting effect." An annoyed voice chimed in, pulling the strap of the guitar over her head. "I set it up this morning while you bozos were sleeping off a hangov- oh, I'm sorry, honoring your moon godess."

"Wow, now that just seemed a little crass and specific, can't we all agree?" Rigsby glanced around at his fellow bandmates for a quick nod of heads before turning back to the frowning Virgo. "I'll take that apology whenever you're ready and there's no way it's a lighting effect! Look at his fuckin' b-"

They stood together for a moment, staring.

"Well fuck me with a chainsaw, I guess you were right Rigsby."

wrecking ball

Just when you thought you had escaped your past, catapulted into something new, and generally started making better for yourself...

eventually, you have to return home.

it should be a good thing, right? seeing all the old friends who never bothered to leave, revisiting old teachers to tell them you did absolutely nothing with the education they provided, or even seeing which of your favorite restaurants from your childhood have been torn down to make way for the newest vape shop.

it shouldn't feel like such a chore to laze around my parents three story house, spending however much time i want creating new things or reading, mostly uninterrupted. i shouldn't feel like a guilty worthless sack of spineless arthropods wiggling around in a human flesh sack. i shouldn't feel more comfortable sober dancing in the middle of a room full of strangers than sitting in the same room with either of my parents.

i don't mean to feel these things, but i do.

messed

aren't you supposed to be responsible for what you say?
aren't you supposed to take care of business before going out to play?
why did you sneak around?
why did you lie about being late?
so you could smile at me again?
and keep looking at me that way?
how was i supposed to be?
just casually baring my soul?
telling you how we could be?
as if it were my goal?

basted, battered, and fried?

gasping and stretching
for just a little breath
not quite sure
what to handle next
there's no agenda
no timeline,
no way to key track
no fine line,
no autotune,
no way to check facts.
it's now or never,
b i g  b o y
you must now
take the plunge
better hope your face
squeaks through
and your secrets expunge
thrown out in the open,
your passions laid out bare
please, come one! come all `
check out this county's fair

sunflower,

i couldn't stay away
i tried and i tried
this pied piper has to pay
before he can go roll the die

spotted

you entered our space
with your holy grace
illuminated, even,
and even kept pace.
witty rapport
back and forth
flirting galore -
a second birth.
the ego is dead
but pulsing alive
throbbing and guilty
of picking a side
and though it's the worst
this time is brand new
i think we found our tape
no, we've found our glue.

blame

i've slowly been asked to introduce myself
so i've begun to reduce myself
reel it all in, like i can't tell a friend
really let em in? where would i even begin?
start from the start, from growing up alone
no siblings to show me I've much less than grown?
or maybe at the middle, when i finally find my voice
when mom doesn't understand it but the friends rejoice
or what about later, when just what i thought i knew
is blown up in my face and i only know blue.
sad and aggressive, smoking trees for days
mad and obsessive, but the t is here to stay
when i really found kev, was when i found my glee
and finally gave up my parents' degree
i chose to work, to toil, to somehow raise a family
hell, when i had a lot of rats they all called me daddy
but i always kept pestering, i know how to work for what i  want
and every person next to me always has to share their experience
so everything will swirl, the bruises from the past become relevant
for when i arch for victory, reach out my hands to reinvent
i'll realize that i probably should have tried a sober covenant

time out

mysteries aside, this is the beginning of light
enigmas galore, enemies ducked out of sight
people always say you gotta stay lit, gotta stay high
but what if i just wanna sit in the dark to have a good cry?
not because i'm sad or things didn't go my way
but maybe it's because that's how i end my day
after rubbing elbows with the small town elite
i slink back to my cave to lazily beat my meat
secluded but dripping in self-satisfaction
anything to get my mind off loving your distraction
i bubble and burst when you walk through the door
i scream and roll around on the floor
i've damaged my goods because i'm too anxious to stop
as i dip and i dance, floating in mismatched socks
the time we spend worrying, trying to please the few
is energy better spent obsessing over you
no wait, that's unhealthy, i should keep to myself
oh, fuck it, just give my space so, alone, i can melt.

dustty

clogged, corrupted arteries
blossom and blister, to melodies
so when i fall, tread with ease
i always get lost in memories
savor the time we have until
the moon is full, until i go shrill
screaming your name, wishing for more
playing your game, sweeping your floor.
i know this dance, i've seen your eyes
i'll go prance between the aisles
make you duck and dip around the corner
constantly avoiding your mini-scorner
i'll stop and glare, just, abrupt
until you look away, cold, corrupt
you've seen my gaze, you've swallow my glance
there's more than you know to giving me chance.
come, let's frolick in the light of the moon
but please, oh please, just let it be soon.

slant rant

how loud must i bellow??
how hard must i roar?
what kind of fellow
would make his friend sleep on the floor!!
i have the room, yes
i have the space,
but what about me?
i need MY place!
this one's for me,
but you can't see it either
you don't give a shit
you're a busy beaver
i think you're cute
but damn you like to fuck
at least i own a suit
and i've got Some Kind of Luck.
just when i thought
i had boundaries figured out
just when i'd bought
enough emotions to not doubt
my own words, and my own voice
i still fall back, which was my own choice
i should be more responsible
i still got my tonsils in
when will i get the responses in
when will i rid these monster tits
glow up, shape up, fondle this?
take a step back, launch this shit.
i kept my distance,
i gave up the space
i haven't cried yet
but you haven't seen my face.
and maybe it's all fate
maybe it's what i deserve
maybe i'm supposed to help
but maybe i should have been curved

i hate that these motherfuckers think that i'm dumb
i hate that they're crass, i hate that they're numb
they fuck and fight and scream and throw
they smile and slash, don't dream or do blow
(not that they should, i'm shocked by my habit,
i shouldn't either but boy when i have it...)

it drives me crazy, being the only one
who can support y'all broke asses,  to be a one and done
i got fucking finessed and it pisses me off
that he thinks he's being clever, that at me - he scoffs
because i don't need you, bitch
i don't need to fuck
i just thought it'd be fun
but i guess i should pluck
myself from this scenario,
pull myself from the scene
"Oh he's gonna come over"
man, are you fucking kidding me?

get the fuck gone,
go on somewhere else
i'm too fucking sensitive
to silence myself
and i know everyone around
is always focused on themselves
i just wanna do the same thing!
not search for a belt!
either this ain't the place
or this ain't the time
it shouldn't be a race,
but i also wanna find
out who i'm becoming,
find out who i could be
find out what to be strumming
find out what might be my glee

i'm only inspired
when i have what i don't want
i only aspire
to what i could flaunt.
and i can tell from talking
that i'm just another body
you should probably get to walking
cause i'm a special kind of naughty
i'm too bad for you
you don't deserve what i've got
things happened in midnight dew
i found my cemetary plot.

here lies a man, broken and bitter
here lies a boy, smoking and jittery
he never said no, he could only agree
he always paid the highest in emotional fees
the only friends that listened, he pushed away
when his love started to glisten, they'd gather around and pray
they tried to support him, they tried to smile back
he tried to proportion it so he could give it all back
he never succeeded, in finding his voice
he never did end up making that choice
not because he didn't have time
he had all the time in the world
but with that planetary trine,
he turned to throw his own words

>(

talentless but common folk
manage this or bond to blokes
never alone but forever lonely
never time to harvest money
constantly barren, left to rot
nothing's fair in earth's nonthreatening plot
and even as we echo into silence
we don't feed the need to suck up, repent
for all that we are, all that we represent
is a mixing pot of values, all still on sent
never delivered to the source of woe
never received by friend or foe
so listen now, or please listen here
the times grow harder but no time for fear
cause mixing and mingling seems fun, on read
but for plans we waste time until, we stay on dread
and even as we embrace this violent cacophony
we let our spirits soar into promised charcuterie
so we finally let go, when we finally breathe
we gasp: oh shit! i'm hungry - it's time to feed.

you're on a thin ice pedestal

what a mental catastrophe!
always waking up in agony,
always searching for bantering
but never having an offering -
beg and plead for understanding
but can't accept the suffering
and even though i'm nurturing
your actions have begun to bother me.
i've spoke my mind, said my piece
i'm almost there, at the feast
when the reckoning comes, i'll say the least
because all i want is chaotic peace.
shade and sun, the duality of man
light and dark, fix what you can
yin and yang, the balanced fish
push and pull, let's make a wish:
i hope this all plays out from here
no more tickets, please, the board is clear.

crooked

i will hide,
i will not stay
to watch you dance
while i turn gray.
i will stand
in my own room
smile and nod
and shift my broom.
you can try
to include me
but i stay strong,
this rude me.
i love you both,
and i respect
what you have
what i regret
i'll keep calm
stay the course,
since my psalm,
pray for worse.
cause this is nothing
my will is strong,
if you want me to see,
come pet my dog.

teases

pensive tracing on
paper brown
once so high
now, coming down
to taste the air,
to feel the breeze,
you must feel time,
must taste the freeze.
the frigid air of tainted dreams
of sullen auras, of clever schemes
and once you reach
the end of night
toss and turn,
put up a fight.
for in dreams,
you will find release
of many created,
of dark defeat.

tessellate

slowly slipping into silence
growing, gripping, giving guidance
tempting and tainted by tumultuous teams
silently sewing scandelous schemes
blissful but blunted
berate me until i bleed
don't try to sugar coat it
i hope to one day succeed
i'll try to stay floating
cause even though my energy
ebbs and flows like synergy
i cannot take belittling
unless it is covert mutiny
with the promise of calamity,
how will you preserve your sanity?

ground cayenne

forged and forgotten
in feverish fences
never near enough
to bash the balance
trippy and trickling
tipsy and tackled
we fish and fondle
we find out and fangirl
chased until dead,
until feelings get caught
shred the red, boys!
don't just do as you're taught
cause limited means
there isn't a lot
this feeling ain't new,
it has long after been saught
close your eyes, breathe
seize your day
you aren't human, baby
you're one of the fae

how could i be so blind

i must be an idiot
with a big sign over my head
that reads something like:
"hey, come fuck me then leave me for dead.
don't worry about my feelings
i have no emotions every which way
i will never call you on your bullshit
and you can treat me any type of way.
i'm just here to please you
i'm here to make you look good
i'm here to show you how to better yourself
i'm here for you to lay down the wood.
i do not exist as a person,
i am only a being that will provide
don't worry about being the worst
cause in the end i'll still get out alive
don't worry about what i think
don't worry about what i feel
only worry about your own experience
don't focus on how i show you i'm real"
cause that's really the only way
to provide reasons as to why i'm stuck
but yo, i'mma go about my merry day
while y'all waste your time with a hate fuck.

it feels better biting down

oh great kleptomaniac - 

oh great keeper of keys

please say i'm not a meglomaniac

i just want to enjoy the breeze

i'll keep to myself,

if it pleases the court

allow me to melt

cause this isn't my sport

i can be patient

(if i really have to)

i'll be complacent 

(i'll just be sad, too)

i understand if this isn't the way

i fold and cower from the biggest play

i embarrassed myself, but i have no regret

i'll be whatever you want, i can be your pet

ramble

golly golly gulpers, come here and funnel my light
grab it, hold it, stretch it, tell me it's alright
i can't breathe when you're near, trying to show you i care
i smirk and sigh when you ask me if you can touch my hair
not because i don't want you, it's because i want you to
you act like you didn't mean to but you're stuck to me like glue
do you like me out of necessity?
who wouldn't want a rest from these?
i've trully made a mess from ease
so now i come, i've dropped on my knees
the time has come, youre name was called
the mystery's over but hasn't been solved
you can give it, and i can take it too
but we need more time to see this through
what would happen if we stuck to the plan?
what if you were my biggest fan?
i need to make this happen,
i need something to change
i need to quit fappin'
i need to find my range
i'll let my voice echo,
let it screech through the sky
i'm not sure how to let go
i only know how to die

1.

"There's no way, man."

"What are you talking about? It's barely fifteen feet!"

"No man, that's at least twenty feet. It can't be fucking done."

He huffs loudly and someone coughs out a cloud of smoke, smelling very much like Gorilla Glue but it could have just as easily been Girl Scout Cookies. It's so fucking hard to keep track of that shit anymore.

My heart's racing even though my body is slowly sinking into the couch - I've been on my feet all day and I've been aching for a verbal fight after dealing with shitty moviegoers all night. I did find a FitBit tonight that I'm gonna pawn for some cash but the levels of semen and vomit I have to clean up is too damn high.

Gus is suddenly putting on his sunglasses and heading for the door. I follow him, mostly because I'm curious what he could be up to now but partially because I'd follow him any fucking where.

Y'all, I've got it bad.

Gus is scaling the steps two at a time, curly black hair bouncing on the back of his pink neck - he went to the river earlier this week with his girlfriend of all people and forgot sunscreen. While she's now a frightening shade of maroon, he's only got a faint pinkness that ignites some fucking baby complex in my fucked up brain where i want to smear aloe on his cheeks while spoon feeding him fucking homemade chicken noodle soup.

I'm squinting up the stairs at him, holding my hand over my eyes to see him outlined in the sun. I never wear my baseball hat facing forward, even when it makes the most sense. It makes me look like a teenage fucking ballboy who's got the biggest crush on his tennis coach but he doesn't know and keeps giving me free lessons because he thinks I just really have a hard time figuring out the form on my backhand and, yes, I'm sure I need him to guide my body with his to learn.

For a brief moment, Gus and I make eye contact and I fucking swear, y'all, that is the moment I realized he was going to jump. I have no fucking idea what else I could have thought was going to happen. Why would Gus run up stairs on the side of our house - one that we all know lead to a locked door - in the middle of the day right after we were just talking about how high the jump is? I'm still kicking myself for not stopping him.

But, he jumped.

I could only watch with mouth wide open as he landed beautifully on both feet. It was only when he tried to put  pressure on one foot and had to hop away that i realized he was not okay. Sometimes you can limp that shit off, right? Like, when you're walking down the street late at night so you're trying to look busy as you pass drunk people sitting outside of a bar, trying to get home to cuddle your dog and watch Moana for the nineteenth time and you get so caught up in texting blah blahb lah 1 2 3 to yourself that you step off the curb and basically break your ankle but you gotta play it off for that blonde hunk in the salmon shorts who eyed you as you were passing so you can graefully limp away...if you're lucky.

Yeah, well, he wasn't able to do that. He literally had to hop to the door and immediately lay on the couch. "Are you okay?" I asked, stupidly, as soon as I followed him inside and came around to sit next to him.

"I fucked up the landing, I definitely should have rolled into it." I'm very familiar with Gus's face, I literally jerk off to him every night. But I can't read it now. Especially since the sunglasses someone miraculously stayed on in that travel. This motherfucker can jump nineteen feet (neither of us were right) and keep sunglasses on his face but I can't be standing in line at a fucking food truck and glance down at the half-eaten taco I seem to have accidentally stepped in without my sunglasses deciding to fucking garnish the taco, like some motherfucking flaccid ass cilantro? Incredible.

"You know that's not an answer, right?"

"Well, y'know, I don't feel great." Oops, there's definitely pain in his voice.  Maybe a little malice? Perhaps....LUST? Oh, no, that's just my imagination.

"...I should probably take you to the hospital."

"No, no, I'm fine. I just need to rest my eyes for a bit."

"No, you can't sleep!? That's...wait"

"I don't have a fucking concussion, ya dumbass. Why don't you roll us a blunt to forget our worries?"

I'm already breaking the weed out on the table, staring at his slowly swelling foot. "Yes, Daddy."

He's turning bright red and he jerks his head to look at me. "I told you to stop saying that." There's a shy smile that makes my heart do a weird flip thing. We're staring into each other's eyes just a little too long and I feel my eyes drift to his lips. He looks down too, as if he's just noticed that his dick would fit so perfectly between my lips.


"Aw fuck, what am I gonna tell Alice?"

I try to roll the blunt faster, but now my hands are shaking.

reckoning

allow me to introduce a concept to you:
the concept of us, wrapped up in blue
shielded from the misery of the present
our emotions bundled for effervescence
blistered and broken, we'll seek solace in each other
but wait! it seems - you can't even bother!
not that you don't have the energy
(boy, i've seen the way you look at me)
but the extra bit oomph i need
you choose, instead, to try to bleed
to bleed out your problems, steep in the wrong
only truly understood by another song
and there's nothing bad about choosing this!
but i'm so manic that i need a fist
someone who'll say - hey! that's enough!
someone who can return my passionate touch
not that you can't, because you already have
but my passion is constant which is kind of bad.
when i'm around you, i lust and lust
i don't want to stop but i must, i must.
so capture me, let me come sing in your cage
but i want to see you, let me taste your rage.

hermit crab

you swashbuckling, sensual, soothing scoundrel
what would you want with this washed up mongrel?
scruffy and messy, i trot around
showing off because i'm too proud.
and you know what? what i have found?
i'm somehow still standing on solid ground.
i'm cool, collected, but i flirt a lot
only a little tempted by what you got.
i won't slip or stumble anywhere near you
i'll bide my time & this'll have to do
not that i'm settling, or accepting less
but please take a look at this unruly mess
you've made by giggling at me
by teasing, by probing, can't you see?
i lowkey adore and could handle you
i'm throbbing and pulsing, right here for you.
i don't mean to make it complicated
so we have to keep this regulated -
i'll stay in my corner, i'll smile and write
and you'll shine over there, just a tad too bright
and when i emerge to see the light of day
i won't be silence by what i have to say
cause unfortunately when i bleed words , it gushes forth
unfortunately, you're the one, my glorious true north.

fantasize

please come surround me, do you feel this eclipse?
i can still taste you lingering on my lips.
help me, seize me, allow me to love
come, allow me to lift you high above.
i will be your wings, with me you will soar
aren't we all looking for rings scattered on the floor?

swish & flick

misty, faint, and fading ideals
drown out at the promise of something real
i've kept pace for far too long
ignored desire, told myself i'm wrong
listened to everyone except for myself
defined only by interpersonal wealth
though i've been dismissed for years and years
i was once kissed while full of fear
not fear of falling, or fear of the new
 but fear of standing still, of having to make due.
i've settled and settled, told myself i wasn't worth
said i need to ache to then find out my mirth
but what's worse than settling or telling yourself no?
it feels like you'll never truly be ready to let yourself go.

should you even express it

self serving and simple
do let me count the ways
i smile at your dimples
and tromp through your space.
woefully edgy for all the wrong reasons
caging yourself off from unfamiliar seasons
stick to the script! that's what they scream
they say that it's easy to be ripped at the seam
cautiously call out so you can take care
but always be reliable, even if it's without flair.
cause the world won't listen to your sad lament
unless you're beaten, broken, and energy's spent.
not that i'm saying - here, hold my beer
but i'm no longer cloudy, it's all crystal clear.

half & half

messy but poised
my heart lives in a bubble
surrounded by poison
but filled with trouble.
trembling and precious,
we stomp and dance
i'm gonna wreck it
but i'm still in a trance.
delicate but worried
tame and collected
let's see where i was buried
before i was defective.
born at the wrong time,
we ache for the truth
you've sent me the sign
for the end of my youth.
carry the world,
support the weight,
chocolate and vanilla swirl,
let's go on a date.

planetz

the best laid schemes
and forgotten dreams
collude and prosper
and crash over me
i won't be moved or swayed
i won't be tricked or played
i'm an immovable object
and an unstoppable force
who begins a project
but does the worst.
the whole time, i'm listening
i've giggled and played
but there's the whistle
and i won't get laid
put me in coach,
i've got what it takes
let's see if i crumble,
let's see if i break

ranst

simmer down, sally

ain't for you

maybe it's together

maybe i'm there

tonight has been a lot

i've felt feverish but flex

i'm in a tight spot

please tell me what's next

i'm cautious and empty

my cup runneth over

to put it more simply:

i'm headed for cover.

head over wheels

selective hearing for the incumbent few
impossibly intoxicated by boiling brain stew
opportunities seized, first texts sent
creating meaning where intentions aren't meant
to harmonize, to keep pitch, calling together
enjoying the breeze but exhaling a sigh in beautiful weather
scorching, not burning, soak in the rays
insecurities banished but fraught with delays
little jabs to the ego that thicken the plot
never know when you're going, never know what you've got
reactions galore, and emotions excite
oh, you've already caught feelings? well, bitch i might
with reckless abandon, i fall and i fall
over and over, guess it's time for a brawl

note to self

awaken, my dear, come dry your eyes
now is not the time for telling lies
you must stay true, to try your best
you must never tire, you must never rest.
callous, but cordial, accept your beating
remember that consciousness is more than fleeting
you may illicit the need to preach for others
but try not to be such an ugly mother.
take care, you big lug, of yourself first
you know you need it, you know your worth
memories stain but do not complete
i cannot complain of sticky feet

coming or going? who's to tell?
i'm caught, and broken, under your spell
so while i try to stay cool, to flaunt a little
please stay for a while to solve my riddle

oh, ok

i am aching, breaking, beautiful, and bold
i am brittle, lifeless, cracking, and old
i wake to see what the day will bring
i sleep to see what dreams will ring
i rock and move my body to the beat
i can't keep still, i will move my feet
i tell myself these things to remind:
i am not broken, i will not cry.

ewww

They're laughing as they tumble through the trees, branches leaping out to snatch their bubbles of mirth as they zigzag around the path. They've been here before but this feel different, this feels new.

Eli is giddy, his blue cowboy hat bouncing along on the back of his neck, hanging from the stray piece of orange twine he attached to the hat edges years ago. He's clutching a spray paint can in his left hand and an unlit cigarette in the right as he ducks underneath a spiderweb, grin nearly splitting his face in two.

Leo is laughing too loud and branches are licking at his naked body, welting him and marking him with little bruises as he tromps down the hill. A dark green backpack bounces on his bare shoulders, slapping his sweaty back with every step he takes. 

They shouldn't be having this much fun, but they are. 

shots shots shots shots shots shots

carelessly, callously creating calligraphy
fearlessly, phallicly fighting photography
moshing and melting, molding malignancy
lending to laymans' literal lethargy
---
emotional tugs with claws of guilt
never knowing when leaves will wilt
soaring high above icy plains
feverishly fixing now-set growing pains
breathing, choking, coughing smoke
snoring, dozing, dreaming woke
---
messily match on broke dreams
fervently fasting for finicky fiends
so you can see, the best of me
but then i withdraw, i tend to flee.
----
fresh but fickle, fanning forgotten dreams
trying too tirelessly to take down tumultuous scenes
caught in a settlement, in one of the first thirteen
we pay our dues, hoping to truly be seen.
---

worthy/unworthy/worthy

tender thighs refuse to soothe
find your voice to mail me a groove
the sender lies, a problematic fave
postmarked for destiny, written to fate
return what's left of me, do not be late.
tossing and turning, flipping and reeling,
sealed with a kiss, come unwrap my feeling.
---
maybe it's lucky that things won't work
maybe i needed to find my raw, silly mirth
maybe this cold season gives flames to motivate
maybe this pain in my side will try to captivate
maybe what's keen is what's meant to be
maybe i'm supposed to just let him go free
maybe i'm deaf, dumb, and blind to obvious choices
maybe i should listen to those internal voices
maybe we're made for something bigger than this
maybe i should chase something more than a kiss
---
mesmorized by skeletons, we take a puff
sinking into the melanin, let me make you blush
alcohol plastered to the skin, when will be enough?
hazy fog, breath it in, alright, now show me your stuff.

believer

misery compells us to be our better self
but miserly components cause us to delve
into grandiose  dreams, illusions of grand
but ever remain seated, too afraid to stand
for something bigger, faster, stronger than you
the collective must starve for the wants of the few
\we end up more broken, but somehow less loss
yet at the future we turn, at the future we scoff

future man

destiny knocks twice if you listen well
curves your attempts to quell the spell
alerting your friends that you've come undone
by making you afraid to love someone
come, let it embrace you, freefall alone
feel that love down to the bone
give, give, give, for your cup is full
push, push, push but don't forget to pull

pulled over

He's pacing back and forth in his room. The dog watches him curiously, perched on the back of the loveseat. She doesn't move but sighs often.

His phone chimes from somewhere in the bathroom and he leaps to check it, though he hesitates on actually reading it.

Too quick to see, you'll get a piece of me. 

He frowns at the sudden, intrusive thought and holds the phone in front of him face up.  He glares at his pouted reflection for a moment and clicks the screen on, culture washing him face in pale blue.

"Are you ready yet? I can't wait around forever."

Leo begins responding quickly. "Yeah, gimme fifteen. I'll be ready."

He's scurrying around his room, gathering little items into a bag. His wallet, his pocketknife, his cigarettes, his flask, his keys, his lucky feather, and an assortment of other things. He pulls the drawstring bag over his shoulders and tugs a jacket over that.

His phone chimes again.

"Meet at the cemetary. Wait, no, I'll just pick you up."

Leo smiles, clucking his tongue at his teeth.

hiking

now i lay me down to waste
i pray, one day, to touch your face
we'll never have to stay in one place
cause we're all chasing, in the same race
finish line in sight, we loosen up
headed straight for that winners' cup
that overflows with independent renaissance
rewarded for our selfish reckless ambiance
bof giving our all, of leaving nothing out
we fight our fight, we face our bout
so when the gun fires and you take off
i'll never stutter, i'll never cough
give me inches and i'll tell you no lies
in this running catastrophe of masculine wiles
come marinate in my juices of creativity
so you can raid my room for object proclivity
of strutting, of acting, of passions galore
come run me down ragged until i beg for more
for ever all good things can come to an end
i'll be waiting for you just around the river bend

chopped

malaise and regret, familial sacrifice
cool pace and Bastet, grabbing a slice
peaking but peaky, sloppy but nice
we may be broken, but we rolled the dice
maybe it's magic but maybe it's fate
maybe we're lost, maybe we're late
cause it all comes down to flaws & favors
we keep up the clause, to create a flavor
we bleed and we swear of errant memories
we flaunt and we flare for forgotten felonies
and though it surges, presses to the bone
we try to take a look & turn to stone
a sudden glance, wrapped up in a bliss
we hope for a firm but wayward kiss
cause even though it's messy, forced, posed
this town is still filled with beautiful bros
they call for attention, they call for covert
they keep you too tense, they keep you alert
but even though this isn't even near the end
i'm glad you're here, i'm glad you're my friend

ferver

we stay reborn, so what else is new?
in a room too crowded, still feels like few
brushing with fate, with meticulous dreams
always try living on the barest of means
merkaba spinning, lights lit in ablaze
please come see me, don't be a phase
i'll keep your secrets, if you want me to
i'll read the room if you're feeling blue
i'll dip and swerve and keep the vibe
i'll help you think, i'll be your scribe
time swoons and croons while we all slip away
caught in constellations splayed beyond the milky way
and though it always feels as though we might burst
we all still manage to show our suffocating worst
so here's to delights and errors and duplicitous ways
i adore you for real, you're not just a great lay

wallow

struggling for sober, we tear the seams
always feeling colder, we look to dreams
to tell what's real, to find a plot
even at the end, we ache to start.
flipping through watery logs
treading water with timid dogs
keeping pace, won't ever submit
these feelings surge, never to relent.
creating perfection, we try to be fair
stifling production to fix your hair
cause waiting is something, worth the most
but changing is better, from coast to coast.
dying means nothing in the big picture
because all the people who also make the mixture

no, no, i insist

The music, a trippy synth-pop bop, pulsates between his ears as he shrugs his laptop bag further up his shoulder. People stumble past him, drunkenly catcalling as their eyes blur in and out of focus. He's way too sober for this.

He needed some time to himself. Not because he needed to get away from the puppy who was determined to destory every precious electronic cord he had or a roommate who continuously neglected the pile of beer can accumulating under their coffee table, but because he couldn't even hear himself think anymore. It was like he'd lost his voice as soon as there was something else to care about.

He has to decide between getting drunk or buying a pack of cigarettes, as his paycheck would only go through in the wee hours of the morning, when he hopes that he'll be sound asleep in his bed. Considering that he's imagining himself passing out from a stupor instead of naturally falling asleep, he figures that he's already made the decision.

His heart gives a familiar lurch as he tugs open the door to the bar, even though he's done this hundreds of times before. It would be cliche to say that something felt different this time, but it does.

He pulls his bag up over his shoulder as he siddles down to the nearest bar stool, defeated eyes giving a cursory glance over the patrons for any familiar faces. He spots a few that he recognizes from work and quickly glances away, eyes drawn to the uninteresting sports bouts happening on the numerous televisions.

"What can I getcha?"

Leo glances down and feels a shy smile unconsciously tug at the corner of his mouth, which is returned by the cheeky redhead that had served him a week ago.

"Ahhh, what have you got on draft?"

The man smiles wider, clearly amused. "I guess that depends on what you're looking for."

Leo's tongue rolls into his cheek, pressing the supple flesh out. "I prefer blondes and lighter ales, but I think I'm in the mood ofr a heiferweisen." 

"Sounds like I've got the thing for you." The redhead begins pouring up a beer in a glass he's pulled from the cooler below the bar. 

"I'm sure you do." Leo inwardly cringes. Is that too far? Too bold? Is he being too cheeky?

They share a long look as the beer continues to pour. Neither says anything until the tap gives a sudden pop, spraying the bartender with a frothy foam. 

"Aw, man, I'm sorry. I don't think I even have a backup keg of this. This one's on the house." He passes the half-beer across the bar and, at the promise of free beer, Leo's hand instinctively reaches over and they brush hands for a moment. Both shiver as they pull back and Leo smiles shyly again. "Wanna look over the beer list while I change this keg?" He's already stepping out from behind the bar after he's pushes the worn paper across the sticky bartop. 

Leo smiles and nods, taking a sip. "There's something else I'd rather be looking at."

"...You know, I might need some assistance in the cooler after all."

Leo chugs back the rest of the beer.

warns

He's leaving work. Another hard day of sorting files, making phone calls, and generally attending to bullshit he cares nothing about. It's just a job, a way to get by, a way to pay the bills. He's not even sure that he's managing that last part.

He's lighting a cigarette as he passes the gas station, billowing nine dollar smoke out of the corner of his mouth as he tugs his headphones tighter over his ears. He doesn't have them plugged in, he just wants to look like he's too engrossed to talk to anyone.

He's stomping down the sidewalk, head down as cars whiz past him. He wonders if he should get a different job. He heard somewhere 'love what you do and you'll never work a day in your life', which really just sounds like a phrase that corporate bosses tell their employees to keep them complacent.

But there's value in it, right? If you trully love and enjoy what you get paid to do, then you won't feel as miserable, right? You'll be that much more likely to want to wake up and want to go to work, right?

I'm afraid it's not that simple.

Leo freezes in the middle of the sidewalk as the eerily familiar voice fills his head, overwhelming his senses. Someone bumps him from behind and mutters a curse word as they stumble past. Leo doesn't see them. He's too preoccupied at this surreal experience.

Are you...in my head? Am I tripping right now?

You would know if you were tripping, don't you think?

I mean, I guess...But that still doesn't explain how you're...how we're talking right now.

Do you really want an explanation? Or would you rather hear what I have to say?

Leo lets the pause speak for itself.

You must be more careful of the company you keep. Trust no one.

What the fuck are you talking about? 

You'll find out soon enough. 

What? What?

There's silence on the other end.

Where did you go? Can you still hear me?

More silence.

He flicks his cigarette butt into the road, too stressed to even finish it. "Goddess fucking damnit. I hate them so much."