at the end of frayed ends because we all make ammends with dead friends. burn the frays, make a noose. take a sip, it will make you loose. cringe at the thought of something improving. sincerity chalks up to losing. my knees are bruising. right reasons keep cruising. by. cling to late night calls, poor reception, mistaken deception. blow a kiss. waste a wish. backseat innocence. beat the clock around the block. its always the fucking clock. your cigarettes are out of stock. go fuck yourself. i need myself. too many acquaintances. left undeveloped. and youre wrong. youre wrong. youre wrong. and what is wrong? nothing at all. and its not right. its not wrong. are we all alright? are we all, all right? i watch mrs albright. on the tv at night. laugh with the image of a pipe. and we created the mistakes we learned from. and a message in itself its a message i have forgotten. found my self concious in a fourtine cookie. invidiuality, for mrs congeniality. sex sells. propaganda is living in our sells. and would you fight, be my knight for the night. catch a flight, be the termites in my head, call me bright, show me light, sometimes spite. we dont have to fight. but would you be mine for the night, mr. white? and sex sells. and propaganda is living in my cells. and the bugs are in your head, are crawling in your bed. when they become contagious, i promise to be outragious. i promise to be envious. but iwill leave with disgust, and if i can't, i must. repeatd circles. good friend quinn. you always win. thats a big secret. i am ugly. you are pretty. still my favorite thing about the city. i am always scared. and you are always off. for the night. and when i took the dare, they all stared. painted faces. misplaced. places. crumpled ones, no free refills. six blue pills. one two many shots. and please dont tell anyone. i have the hots. for boys in the long sleeves. and they all say please leave. and noone sticks up. around. for me. i hate you. who is that. i hate you. i sit by the red cups. watch all the break ups. and after. one two three four for me. i crack up. get up. and throw up. cheeks are pink. couldn't you tell, i was already fucked up?

we are centuries old. becoming bold. taking steps. wearing clothes that everyone reps. fuck fashion. we have lost all of our passion. v hearts. hearts v. take them. swallow swallow swallow. you should be used to that. we are all shallow. all dillusioned, react with a minldess creation. why? change is a lie. everything stays the same. havent you learned this game? its all in your head? who is that in your bed? her hair was red. but her mind was shot. body was hot. purged was what you thought. we all know. she's a penis fly trap. everyone is waiting for you to snap. all come around, you start to hear them clap. and you never hear about the path less chosen. when their hearts become frozen. and everyone assumes take the travel more beaten. follow the trend. make your own and you'll bend. the rules a little. and my god her bones are so brittle. we are all sick. slap another brick. in the wall you call progress. regression makes for great books and envious looks. makes you feel good when you come back up. sick chaos. liberate. educate. edumicate. sit still. grab a book. suffocate yourself. a system that fails is a system that gains. if i am the sponge all of you are the water. is it me or is it getting hotter? im so far deep, this is why my eyes wont allow sleep.

consumed thoughts. consumers buy to untihking minds. cheap finds. how do you like your fucking change? have a nigger for your leader. glad i was never a follower. i am a stray. now everyone is asking for change. on the streets. we have to ask ourselves. is our purpose ever served? and ties are severed and levered down with another bill. mr. president has another proposistion for his posistion. new health care for the careless. health care for the blacks in there newly pressed slacks. and what is that your screamin? remember what happened to the last black who started dreamin? millions under the impression that your fabricated lies with somehow save us. pretty soon it'll be white people riding the bus. rosa parks a transformed, ashley sparks. everything is distorted. the teachers always reported, 'history repeats itself'. it was never an easy thing for you to cope. i'm only referring to the ignorant niggers who pulled the triggers and voted for the mixed nigger. ignorant fucker. remove connection. communication. and dont get me wrong. i'm not hating. just debating. i like black people. its the ignorant fucks that have to go. whites too. anyone who has stoppped being immune to the fume of youth, you've stopped living a long time ago. we're all living to grow. i say fuck presidents. and fuck yes to individualized residents. what happened to everyone being equal? this story deserves a sequil.

i keep my eyes shut. or are they open? they are closed to whether there were blankets on the top. or not. a few things you should know about me. like how i hate the word powder, and the smell of fruity things. it often brings headaches. and your smells bring heartaches. and i get excited when im driving by myself. when i think of bunkbeds nothing comes. but when i think of bunkbeds i never wanted anything to come. small enough not to touch the smoke stained ceilings. and now the boys they hold my hand. and they make smart jokes. and the hoax its all on them. its all on me. it was always on me. act without thinking. think before doing. never do. do make say think. mogwai. and cody. and nick drake. all of this is true. do you know? what it does to me. because i dont. whats the worst thing that has ever happened to you? is it bad if you cant afford to choose. your mind wont allow to pick. and choose. they are all bad. sad. im glad you came. i am fucking sick. and i need a bottle. give me a fucking bottle. and the only message i get is the amount of this. and the amount of that. and the amount of myself. what keeps you up at night? i am not up at night. my height was never recorded then. i never grew. sold my soul to the devil at age 6. its not something we cant fix. but there are no garantees in this life. so you take the sharpest kitchen knife and put a price on yourself. and if something has a price. nothing has value. and you slide off the bed as you stuff your mothers shoe. it doesnt fit but you never had a clue. when willl this fucking world wake up? we dont need clothes and rings. fundemental valueless things. we need scarves from the goodwill. book that make the brain nerves sting. senitmental. valuable things. and i promise this time ill be wide awake when the phone rings. and absolute drink. for absolute beginners. and the things you will tear up are the things that i write down. and the tv says theres bad things happening over there. but my brain says i am too young. but too old. so i just worry about whats happening over here. and everyones losing their job. or getting hired. to get fired. to get hired again to sell their life again. for minimum wage an hour. and did i tell you hate bunk beds. and this is why im so fucked up. and you fucked me up. and did i ever tell you what happened. i was just preparing myself for the wonderful future. old enough now to keep my mouth shut. brought you back a souvenier. just wanted to say fuck you. im glad you were never here.

everyones gettting paid. going out to tet laid. playing a big game of charades. lucky to not be invited. home on firday and saturday. freedom comes and goes. leaves with the breeze. it stays and creeps in like a creepy crawl under logs in the garden you once played in. and that summer when you told your dad your mom let you start shaving and you cut your legs, like a walking meat locker. and you found out what the shocker meant. you swam in the pool and having the darkest tanlines made you cool. you doggy paddle, rattle your brains out. found out what feeling was. and because of this you were never the same again.

you live in. you give in. you slept in and noone asked any questions. you walk down the street holding hands with mr. marlboro. mother told you so. say we'll never get to know, when all the little book stores close, and the smells of new books makes you smile, at least, the new ones, to you. and for a while, your poor fashion sense of style, comic book eyes like sharp shooters lies. soon we say our goodbyes hooked to telephone lines and exit routes are all past due, orientations are all passed up, and fucked up. your fascinations with the hiptrade dressing up like its some big charade. the translater bottom line was a big mis envador sim is always on your cieling, your room has feeling, but do you? and bottom lining, deep ends with the shallow ends, you didnt see the color change to the drop off when your time ends. and yourlookingsomuchfinerthanyoudidwheniwaswithyou. so i send him different songs to make a point. but whats the point. and the point is things are different. and our age is finally growing into our skin. from blue to grey, shoplifter to box lifter, sand critter to sand shifter. and since when did my glasses stop working?

we both like black. sitting on the stairs, i laugh at the house. i tell you i'm laughing at myself. you think im laughing at your hair. this time im not so worried about what it is. its good. i'd like to compress a book of letters i will never show people. then get it published. so the world will think they are for them. i hope they find hope in them. and in the spaces i hope they smell the burn of mary janes vagina in my throat. i hope they breath the alcohol, and the aeresol brain cells. i hope they taste the hope i want to give them. vanshising. we are all. vanishing. its amazing. isnt it?

opaque pills line your dresser. i can see them, even in the dark. you draw in the pitch of it. when we submit the feelings we plan to forget. so lies in your hands, or your bed. and you prefer the worst. with pictures of lydia hurst. so in your head the birthday balloons burst. i never hated you, just your. guts. when sluts became bestfriends, and first place became last resort. so you bailed that night when i told you i was going away to college, andi know were both scared, but im falling off the edge. are you brave enough to push me, this time? prices going up. values going down. virgins without blood, and kids without morality. better believe in this believing, because its something to be acheiving. things will matter when things begin to shatter. and you can have your cake and eat it too. something about getting fatter. and wearing the same shoes. and those pills i saw in the dark, are hiding in your throat. where they disintegrate, and faces generate. we're both in the same boat. why are people alawys complaining about sinking, when we haven't even set sail. all my friends begin to bail, and my lesson plans, all fail. left a trail for the black, sheep. stayed. the night with white lies. and fell asleep in the back of a truck. woke up in the morning, found a buck. im not one for thinking, or sinking, but i know when someone is looking for a quick fuck.