and she said "it made so much more sense in my head". fuck you.


November 4, 2011


You speak to me, like letters sent

by darts.


Tacked on bar walls, holes in cardboard boxes.


You were always too cheap to stink like

cheap cigars.


Oh, baby, you wanna take my hand?

You wanna be subconscious,

unknowing, don't go,

it's an easy target,

I'm your bull's eye.


I was always too weak to look like



So I took the chisel

to build myself a shell.

And now I'm comfortable here,

conversing of the same old stories

to be compatible.

To be replaceable.


That's all I ever wanted to be,


And comfortable

in that garbage can

you reserved

for me.


You speak to me

like waiters in busy,

oversimplified restaurants,

and I'm making money off this?


What do I look like to you?

I never knew I had an image,

a likeness similar to those

on Earth.


I never knew, I was real.


Finding quarters in what used to be twenty's.


It's just me, it's just me.


It seems that when you visit,

my grave gets dug

so much faster.