where is my me?

i cant focus. i can not focus. i haven't felt like me in a while.
i even forgot how to spell my life. i forgot what its like to be me.
i want to turn back the hands of time.
what am i doing in this era. why can't i get back to where i belong.
what am i doing? why are my questions never answered?
its like im in a game of tug-of-war with myself.
and i just lost.
if i could just reach into my insides and pull out the poison that is coursing through my veins, maybe then i could escape into the vast mysterious emptiness you call freedom. empty words, empty promises. i want to return to the depths where sea pressure crushed the skulls of unwanted hunters. i want to dive back into my clay fixtures and seep into their collectively arranged color pallets. this wasnt me, this isn't who i want to be. where is the sign that reads. get me out of here. exit. this isn't real. pinch me, i'm living.

dear respiratory system

killer of the deep, wrapped in a fluid filled coma.
why are you pulsing through the city.
you're rupturing the surrounding town.
small men on horses run ramped through the town
suicide red bombers, pow pow.
smoke clears, gone. empty. broken.
now look what you've done, you killer of the deep.
shredded open, leaking red ooze. pumping fast.
send the troops, large giants approach.
head for the hills.

557

the early november

I haven't felt this feeling in a while.
maybe i just want to feel it so i can say that there is indeed something unusually wrong about me. maybe its the fact that i am uncomfortable being around large groups of people, or that i have panic attacks, it could be the fact that i feel as though i am completely empty inside and feel i just don't give a shit to care or know anyone.
my batteries at eight percent and the charger is broken.
stuffed against my bedside i hear my animated friends all correlating in the their own little black box, being extra sneaky. i cut my ties to cut my hair. i stopped thinking and started being an idiot. i always relapse. they say its the gateway drug, what do they say is the gateway drug? My aunt is the only person i know that listens to the beautiful girls and she passed away, i miss her. i'm depressed. that's my conclusion. i am depressed, and i don't need anyone to help me. i can hide behind these brown eyes until i rot inside. its not like anyone is going to open me up and try to fix shit. i don't like you but i need to butter you up and drink your blood before the sun rises, you know the drill. no emotion, no emotion, no emotion. its all fake. i am all fake. i am not real. this is what im trying to get instilled into your skulls, i have absolutely no feelings. i could give sixhundredandsixetysix shits about you, you slimy useless fuck tard. i miss you. why do i feel as though no one will ever compare. oh you know, im a fucking moron. get this shit out of my head! please, please do so. you talk all big and bad but you don't do anything, when will you change, i know you don't want to, you never do.


xoxo

214

welcome to my world, i get to lay on panties tonight.
so how is everything? everything alright?
cut to it, rewind lets back track.
Number one: Make detachable fingertips.
Number two: Go to roses and buy a halloween black sheet and ''thumbtack that mutha fucka with a damn shoe.''
Number three: paint my brain melting waves at the stop light via opticals.
for now i forgot the fourth somehow. i would love to rip these damn nails off and run free into the wyld. eating a damn buffalo and maybe some triggions. this always gets me, seeing, hearing, watching, touching. pawpaw. i cant think in this position, im going crazy fucking up my addition. if that addiction chilled on the sly i could gleetgleet banggg, on the side. eh i'll just break my neck and chew this pillow until i suffocate and die where i spilled marinara sauce. this bitch is smelling catliter with corn, why do people not do drugs again. america, for real, you are stupid. fu ck. i'm tyred. going to the watering hole and finding my coffin to get into before the sunrises...apparently.


"sea green, red arrow.
swirled together, brushed with yellow.
add some white, tint of black.
mush it together, stick it out.
twist the darkness, breathe in in in.
focus everywhere conceal the outskirts.
time is twisted, lock my eye.
shut if open, no sleep tonight."

152

shit its bright.
all the shit in my head is melting out.
i hope nobody can take my minerals and change my subliminal to cause me to be illegible. ill write all day if the sun stays away today. this thunder cloud is taking my air. i'm clogged, fill me with acid and drain me free. melting my bones and softening my inner mush may set these thoughts free. my minuscule tremors wont let me the fuck be. i'm coughing up life, cant get too caught up. i stay on my shit so i don't get sea sick but sometimes i jump overboard thinking about flying. i land face first into the after math. gooze of gooey, fuck this pile of empathy. going to the life of death in everything ive done, i cant fusssss. understand me tomorrow, night owl statuz.

630

dear subconscious, remember when you spoke those words
''i am never going to walk on that path again''
no, mhm...well what about when you said,
''that was a mistake that i will grow from and never relive it''
wow, youre a piece of shit. what are you good for?
other than murdering my body and sacrificing my brains
whats that? you also are selling all my vital organs on the black market, how clever. how very clever you are, i bet you've been thinking about this plan for some time now. well if you ever want to take a walk down a dark alley in the middle of november, let me know. i love the color red, mixed with an offset purple and splattered black.

back to reality:
two papers, one quiz, two projects, one menu, three short stories, and five chapters. i'd rather be listening to the smiths radio on last.fm and eating my cats upper and lower intestines with these cute chopsticks i just painted. i could inhale and consume the fumes/chemicals to die on top of lucifer's rotting carcass for my mother to find. her face would be beautiful at the sight of her only daughter and favorite black demon dead cat. smanger is my favorite of all favorite emotions. its raw and true, black and blue, wilted and frigid. what could be better? exactly, sew your eyes closed and drink super glue. before i cut any deeper would you like me to end this now? no one asked me that, why didn't i have that choice? i want this to be so slow and painful, almost as if its in slow motion for years and years. maybe you can grow old as i torture you and desolate your body. one can only hope so. i can only imagine what you taste like. id like to experience that soon, i bet your brain taste just like penne ala vodka, yum. im in the mood for you alright, the mood for you to be fucking dead and quenching my hunger. helping someone other than yourself for once you slimy useless insignificant human.

608

i just read time perfectly and mastered the art of time travel. i am my own gypsy women living my life amongst the living dead. taking, giving, taking. receiving. i will suck this dry and spit it out. i am not who i was, i am the updated extremest feeling nothing and living with everything. don't be afraid of what the future is you are one, i am two, we can be whole. live with no regrets they say, but what if you regret living. i here by denounce my thrown and live as the rest, unholy, unfit, for mortal combat.