you're too kind

and thats why you infuriate me.
its "please" and "thank you" and "can i get you some water?"
i dont need water. i dont need you
what i thought cant possibly be false. no way jose.
i want indifference,
and a little more "can you get outta my way?"
cause ive never been rational
what i want is never what i need and
ive never ever watered those seeds i planted
not with actual water
maybe a douse of grape juice or a squirt of cream.
but their growth isnt stunted like mine;
they have what they dont need
they grow backwards and miscolored
i have what i need, but not what i want
and grow healthy and strong
only weak in my assessment of what constitutes my life
the mind truly gets in the way
the conscious is stupid and gets in the way of my wise subconscious self
that knows
ive always been wrong.

It's just so nice to get away...

with my petty crimes.
my lies, my secret indulgence of deception.
call me a liar.
call me a tramp. (I find it unlikely that you'd go to such extremes)
but what i got away with..
nah.
not even that impressive,
but its a start, my friend. it is certainly a start.
a white lie leads
to embezzled company funds.
and a simple vein of revenge//
overtakes the whole body in seething r a g e.
but thats what i wanted.. i supposed, in my tiny little, chromosone-deficient brain.
thats exactly what i wanted.
to lie to you and feel those endorphins as i ran in the opposite direction of truth.
i hid behind that gnarled old tree as you walked by;
searching for me, calling my name.
yet
i curled up behind that tree, snickered... yet trembled.
because i knew full well...
i knew not what can of worms i had just opened.

for those of us who secretly wished to be skanks for a day

I am, above all, an undeniably senseless person.
those wishes i'd conceive, those desires i'd craft...
nonsensical.
it's no way to be, really; always wanting what you are not, and always hoping for the nails to be driven through your skin, simply because they were not there before.
Do you really want to be used?
and hurt?
shall i rent a masked gorilla to beat you into the ground, a parade of lions to chase you around the yard?
yet the secret want is still there, unashamedly glaring right into our faces.
It is not a want of abuse, but rather a want of being wanted.
in reality
we are all just lonely loners.
crying out for someone to ease our pain
we are all just lepers,
huddling outside the shining city that so graciously throws its garbage our way..
lepers.
wishing on a star that the next traveler will have pity, compassion
we'd do anything to confirm our existence
to confirm, nay, establish our worth.
what were we worth, anyway? a sick and dying people, ready to sell themselves on the black market. what worth is there in such a deal?
yet, i seem to be a contrast.. im told;
i live in a box? i am protected from the fear
and the anger
i am shielded from an immense bounding main of pain
and from the lonely depths darker than the brine itself.
so toss me into your swimming pool and box my ears with your rolling pin.
I deserve it most of all.
for having such a quaint, lovely life..
and secretly hoping to squander it at the earliest opportunity,
how dare i?

because the person who cares the most usually pays the highest price

I've carried you thus far, don't you think its worth a try?
to test out those legs you fear will break?
I've done the best i can, to help you find peace.
can't you stand up for my sake... at least?
You grasped my hand with your needy iron- grip
and i remember what it was like to attempt to pull a tree right out of the ground
i recalled how it felt to flap my arms in an attempt to fly
and i envisioned how i felt the day i began a dig to china.
what was impossible, well, we all just gave it a shot
and what was possible was too little for the dime-ambitions we bought.
being with you is like trying to catch the moon in a butterfly net
and extending help as you boil in your self inflicted misery is like taming the winds that birth the hurricanes and tilt the limbs of the tallest trees.
i'm not sure how much longer i will last, burning in this pressure to aid the unaidable.
i'm not sure how much of a toll i will have to pay for my intent on being a friend.
i just want something better for the kid i knew was best,
and all i want is to see you rise above the worthless rest.
no im not your phony elementary schoolteacher that praises your every move or hands out encouragement that only foments damage to your progress..
i just want you to live your life
and i know i could'nt stand it if...
YOU KNOW I COULDN'T STAND IT IF....

the hypocrite police... with the wooden eyes.

I see you.
I watch you.
and i know you did after you said you'd never.
I know you showed up sunday morning, but your knees they were smooth.
havent been using them lately, hmm?
yet i heard you make those sanctimonious little claims.
claims of revelation, exhortation, glorification..
more like fornification.
do i judge too harshly?
or shall i use your own rules?
do you expect to evade those rules you penned into being..
really?
the rituals. the traditions. everything that weighs you down.
FOLLOW IT
with your religious fervor....
Plant trees, and drink grape-juice-communion until your shovels and drink bury you in your early grave.
believe the truth that you mixed with the lies.
its all in there somewhere..
and hey, it all goes to the same place, right?
beliefs don't work the same as a baked potato.
my judgement stands true; it stands justly
except maybe there's a single anomaly that
i refused to accept..
i ignore it constantly,,
for fear that it will destroy my self righteous assailment of your hypocritic practices.
this little fallacy.. that i overlooked.
the hyocrite was never you.
Loan me a mirror, will you? there may be something wooden in my eye...

Debonair

"...oh so debonair..."
smooth is whatcha are. whatcha are.
when ima ridin in your car. in your car.

hey there i thought i'd just let you know.
that i think you're pretty fly.
more than i expected to allow myself to think
of you.
before i can catch my breath and before i can calm my glittering eyes that do all the talking even in the silent war-zone...
the grass i stood on is just sinking sand
and i can't see you anymore 'cause the dirts in my eyes
and im plunging right on through the earth
crossing my fingers for china.
cause you know we all wanna dig a hole to china.
but you're up there and im falling on through ugly ol' down here.
the worms and the rot grab at my particles
my particles are falling apart; my substance is a'falling apart
the glue that held me together is up on the surface as i sink to the ocean floor.
the crust the mantle the core.
the pressure pushes me, makes me implode.
i was tall and well filled out, now im withering, shrinking
dying just a bit faster
there aint no light down here
take it from someone who'd know.


dont try to understand the story meant to puzzle you
dont rock the boat
dont cause those problems, dear.
you just listen to your elders and listen close:
follow what they say, and dont rock the boat, dear.
they've been there before. and they're still on the boat.
live it play it safe. and you'll stay on the boat too.
dontcha wanna stay safe on that boat, dear? hmmm?

cold toes... lukewarm heart

i know you expected the contrast.
but it felt better to disappoint than to cater to your expectations.
I am not original.
i just do exactly the opposite from everyone else.
that is not original.
that is being predictable.

dearest dear, you child of four
do you know what you're living for?
you run and play and hide in the dark
but you run from fear of dogs that bark.
obstinate, you tell us "no"
though you really never wanted to go.
dearest dear, you child of four,
can you hear us through this door?
I have been all locked out today
all i had and all i'd say
the things i thought would benefit
have all proved to be a pile of. s. h. i...
so please don't tell me i am unique
can you all just quit lying to me?


what is blue has now turned white
and what was peace is now a fight.
the cheshire cat seemed to have it right
when he claimed nothing is as it seems.

To Work at the Moulin Rouge Would Probably Suck

i am a piece of meat.
sold in the market, to the beasts of flesh.
There is no value in my intellect
my personality
my spirit
my mind
my intelligence
my accomplishments
my connections
my tact
my education
all i have to offer is the tangible.
"what will it be today, sir?"
You can sell l u s t , but no one has ever fully been able to master love enough to constrict it to a marketable bottle.
make your life easy, but in the process, make mine nothing short of h e l l.
Who am i?
They tell me i am an asset to business, a number, a piece of equipment.
Where has my humanity gone? where did they hide my freedom and pride?
I was thrown into a dirty pit to smoulder in the ashes of your forgotten refuse.
what have they done to you?

Zoo... She claimed, "I live in a cage."

My arms slowly snake out of my barbed cage.
You walk by casually, you glance around you at the exotic, unfamiliar animals. you peruse with your eyes. you relish your superiority.
My fingernails dug in deep.
Your skin is broken; your b l o o d spilled. Your surprised yells alert the keepers who swiftly beat me away from the edge of the cage.
The filthy body in front of you huddles in a corner. Those gleaming eyes follow you as you retreat into the wilderness of unrestricted freedom. You try to forget the unpleasantries.
I cannot forget the fetters that shackle.