All meow

People are more romantic when we don’t have time for them
I want to…all the bitches
I want to make you angry so that I may exist
To be juvenile, too bad
What does it say about me if I’m only happy
drinking tea
What if I could drink tea with bitches
If they’d be here and we’d stop for a moment
Just a moment, Mr, a little moment.

Driving too fast because I don’t care anymore

While there are real things in the world,
Meanwhile I am here with my usual aching knee,
Parties weren’t fun,
I couldn’t be who I wanted to be,
Read these words as if I weren’t here,
They might feel more meaningful to you then,
because there are a lot of people who aren’t loved
While here and not there.

Elitism is the greatest sickness

No one wants to destroy better,
I guess

they believe in the possibility of best:

a belief.

to watch films with other

Let’s watch Hocus Pocus
this Halloween
on your couch
with snacks

If not,
then please,
the last Hobbit film
I promised myself, it’d be with you

I’m running out of time
Your face is not a thing I know
not that I had ever

I called your face a thing
Maybe you’ll be late because

You could be an uninvented robot
At this point,
It is a thing that I guess.

Water

I’d rather be showering than here
At least I wouldn’t have to be seen

I wonder if I’d become flames
The shower is shelter

Satan’s the only one who
said out loud, “I’m doing it for free”

This conditioner smells like that Barbie perfume
Am I allowed to say her name

I like how holy figures raise their hands,
Delicately,

i’m not even entirely

No one misses little canada
except me because i’ve never been
except me because i like ghosts
except me because i speak english

i exist because they left

i am californian
i will go to the beach and play in the sun
i eat a taco maybe

My newest sneakers are more than 3 years old

Clothes or books
Books or makeup
Makeup or best toothpaste
A nice thing or the other thing
To be seen well or to feel well

The home and belongings of members of a family

"They painted their house, drunk"
"Paint’s on everything"
"Nothing’s worth anything"
"They didn’t own shit"
"It’s all trash"

Once, a request for info

was sent to the sister of a missing mother

The reply stated,
"Frankly, she was a slut"

We’re used to this.

I hear cars

A strange emptiness for yards
Swings and benches, sun stained

People in vehicles

I’d like to have company on the street

The small town is dead
but, 200 years before,
was a city.

Bffs

I don’t make enough friends
That means I’ll never have enough treats

That means it’s easy for me
to go missing for weeks

That means, ultimately,
I hope I don’t end up in jail.