I met them smart, they layed down numb.

As I sit between geniuses

and as I lay between sheets

staring at the popcorn ceiling,

I start to realize that

it is all fucking the same.

every pizza is round,

every mind is in our head.

Life is worth living where

light shines between blinds

and philosohical discussions

are left for Yangming and Socrates

in dirt.

in a coffin.

six feet under.

We both can not solve the world

and the world will not solve us.

Tomorrow

I can't bring myself to realize that tomorrow is really important. I have to go testify and I wont share what it's about. I just need an outlet.. so here we go.

Ive been having nightmares every night about tomorrow, yet I dont really believe it will actually happen. It is as if Im anticipating something that wont really happen.. but it has to. Its hard to explain.

Im at a point in my life where every decision matters, that people will judge me for who I am with and what I do. What drugs are taken or what hair style I wear. Its what I study and what I do in my free time. I dont understand why some choose to consciously declare someone not a friend any more. I guess Im a loyal person. Once a friend, always a friend. This is me. I guess I put myself in other peoples shoes too often. Maybe I need to wear mine in first? Who fucking cares. I honestly am tired of worrying about everyone else. Who truly worries about me, the way I do for others? Wow, rant is over. Sorry for that pile of shit in text.

Ill probably delete this so cherish it while it is here.

Life is lived in the middle, not the extremes.

Wow, scary.

Its scary what comes out
the corner of my mouth.
What corn puff cheese
crumbles lurk, saying
that my lack of awareness
makes me look like a bafoon.
Whispered secrets and
wobbly kisses surround
my daily life.
Style is not an option here.

Toothpaste stains show
what attempts I have at
keeping my words clean
my body grows dirtier
as the days of growing
up become stronger.

How texting the one person
that makes your life shine
brighter than that classroom light
illuminating more than a rave party
and then recieving a soft and polite,
lovely reply.

It scary what tears drip to the corner
of my mouth, dripping like
that empt grey sink
in your kitchen and
your insides crinkle
like that bag of sun chips
I just emtied with
wolverine fingers and mouth
wide like a coffee stir straw.

It's freaky that I want you to stir me.
pour a little creamer hugs
and sugar cube kisses into
that wide steaming cup
behind my lungs. Drink it slow
taste every sip as if the world
would never end, that Time is
just a misspelled spice.
Drink, drink my cup.

Its scary what I can hold
in the corner of my mouth.