In the John

Open the door, close it
lock the door I'm free
Content I turn around
Drop my drawers with glee

The seat is so cold
I sit down. It's so clean
Comfortably flip through
the nearest magazine

Get a call from my girl
Pick it up. Might as well
We're only on the phone
She won't detect the smell

I mean what's the point in being
the king upon the throne
If a king is not allowed
to even talk on his phone

End the call, finish the page
And now I'm almost done
I think I've been here for an age
But hey, I had the runs.

Absentmindedly reach for the roll
Oh no, there's nothing there
"I need toilet paper!"
Nobody seems to care

Finally someone comes
But it's been a couple hours
I say "Thanks for bringing some"
as I pull on up my trousers

Wash my hands once or twice
This is like my second bedroom
Cause there is no point in enjoying life
If you can't enjoy the restroom

Around Me

Surround me
like roses around a blade of grass
Around me
I see a fantasy of me in the past

Words confusing as the world,
cause the confused who speak are illogical.
Away my great ideas are hurled
they we're unreal and mythological.

Puzzles stop when I stop pondering
forgetting that the pieces haven't fit.
Halfway I'm empty through wandering
still confused as to why I can't quit

A jumble of words that don't need to be written
A hollow person gradually filling up
A fixed heart that wants to be smitten
and I still want to defeat what's killing us

Loneliness and depression being killed with one stone
Different in definition but are they one bird?
Pausing growth towards being full grown
For once I'm afraid because I know it's absurd

Destroy me
It's a funny idea that wouldn't possibly last
Deploy me
I preform a strategy cause I'm on my way back
Bear with me
Slowly picked up, unable to go fast

Necks Gets Stronger the Longer They Hang

Hello pitiful. What's it gonna be?
Go ahead. Try. You'll fail to finish me.
Tie that noose tighter and find a better lure.
Suspend me by my neck and I'll still endure.
I'll flop for awhile. You'll smile with glee.
Till he cuts my rope and says "Go. You're free."
Then I'll embrace the ground and take a deep breath.
Did you really think you could entice me with death?
I'll take off that bag that you put on top of me.
and waste no time tossing it. I want it off of me.
I'll crawl from the dirt as I move from you noose.
You'll angrily stand there because I was cut loose.
I'm rubbing my neck. It's my most vulnerable part.
Really you're actually trying to damage my heart.
Will you ever realize that I'm simply not alone?
No. You'll just place before me another stone.
If I don't see it I'll trip and land in your rope.
The bitch for you is that I'll never lose hope.
Even if it takes awhile, you'l never see me die.
I hate you because while I'm choking you lie.
I'll struggle until it dawns on me that I should cry out.
And help will come. That's something even you don't doubt.
My help will look me in the eyes, and as a friend will say,
"I'm going to cut the rope, and you're gonna be okay."
So maybe step it up a notch. And get a bit more clever,
Because even through your deceit I'll endure forever.

I'd Write a Rap to My Heartbeat, But I Don't Know the Words

Do you like to open the door? I like to crash through the window
I'll break through the glass, and examine my cuts later.
I look at the shards on the floor. Into the house the wind blows.
I was trying to move fast. My plan smolders to a crater.

I've found that reading is helpful. Not that it really helps me understand.
It was a great story to hear. Maybe I can use it to debate.
I'm definitely just as thoughtful. But I've also used my hands.
Sometimes my actions are out of fear. The point is there is action of late.

The land of confusion is more confusing when you're confused,
So please close your mouth if you think you have it right.
Sometimes I'm passionate. Sometimes happy. Hateful. Amused.
Only God can tell us how this is all black and white.

Revenge creates a unique story. Not that I'd know too well.
But I know to an extent, and it's still a part of everything.
Sometimes it ends gory and sometimes you realize that you fell.
Everything is unpredictable, including vengeance that we bring.

But did we really bring it? Or maybe we're still just stupid
Confused. Living life in joy. A little annoyed at cupid.
But my wheels are turning. Don't you dare think they're not.
I still have this burning. Theres more battles to be fought.

I'm Messing You Up If You're Putting Him Down

Right now his friends are few, but that really isn't his choice.
He wishes there was more he could do, or that he could still hear her voice,
But what's eating him through is that once he actually did have a choice.
Choices. That's what this story is about,
Because at first he was a monster, who took too much
But in the end, he chose to go without.
Instead of trying to walk, he tripped and took a crutch.

Sometimes we make choices based on what's right,
Usually we know that after we'll be alright.
But this time my friends, it just wasn't the case.
He knew it would hurt, and he stared it in the face.
I know you guys all talk about how he has himself to blame,
But aren't you forgetting that he chose to endure shame?
No, he locked himself in and won as he lost the game.
He threw out darkness, while it tried to call his name.
Now he just sits there. Sadly things aren't the same.

It's gonna follow him around for the rest of his life.
In job interviews, or maybe when he's trying to find a wife.
But the beautiful thing is that this life, though it's sad and it's wrong,
It's short. And when he leaves he'll know it was worth it all along.

Nightmares of Flight

All the words I know by heart.
But if I take them to heart, I can't tell.
I could learn about birds and gain some smarts
And I wouldn't fly any more well.
I could write you a book on how not to fall apart,
My words, they could save you from hell.
I know all these answers. Trust me I do,
But if I told you they were me it wouldn't be true.
So I won't. I guess I'll just tell you the truth,
Even though the idea chills me.
I'll do it though, I'm no more than a youth,
Yet I already know that lies cannot fill me.
Or maybe they can, but I know the boat leaks
And now with my bucket I'm bailing
I'm using my hands, but I'm not going where I seek.
I stopped paddling, because with this bucket I'm flailing.
I need to shower. I know that I reek.
But my boat is filling. In everything I'm failing.
I don't have power. We both know I'm not meek.
So I frantically dump it out, not paddling or sailing.
If I only patched the hole. Apparently there's a leak.
Maybe I can stop the water before it starts raining.

The truth? Sometimes I wish I was me
Looking at myself. It sounds prideful I know.
But then I'd know my thoughts. I'd give advice to me.
Advice that me, and just me would know.
Cause there's all this fear, this anxiety around me.
There's these struggles I never had the pleasure to know.
Then the other ones, the chains that still surround me.
I could write myself a book from the stuff I know.
My heart isn't in it, but I do know how to help me.
If you were a bird, I'd know all you need to know
To get you up in the air, to flap your wings,
To care but not care, to burst out and sing,
To know life isn't fair, it's cruel and it's mean.
To see what's everywhere, live in it and stay clean.
I know my fair share, though I'm nothing but a teen.
Sometimes I can't get anywhere.
The truth is, I don't know a thing.

Everything is Something.

Hang on a sec,
Let me sit on my ass little longer.
I'll just hang out while you sit on yours.
I'm not a wreck.
I've realized I'm not becoming much stronger.
Because though I feel rain, it doesn't really pour.

Usually I watch from the light of day.
I look on as the lightning cracks from above you.
From my umbrella to your cloud of gray.
I'll step into your storm because I love you.

In the end though, it's your storm, not mine.
What am I saying? I don't know the end, it's not time.
I don't know anything, cause right now I'm fine.
In the end though, I know everything will shine.

What scares me is you guys. I feel for you the most.
How can I live my life when so many of you are toast?
But that's just it. I have problems too.
Most of them are minor, some of them are you.

But I still feel young. I'm still inexperienced.
I still haven't found the balance I need.
I know that I've changed. Nobody could deny it.
But change isn't always growth, so I don't know.

Why can't I land in the middle somewhere?
Why do everyone's perspectives always vary?
Why am I so overloaded by this nothing?
Is it just the fact that I really do care?
Or that I'm a fool for finding the unknown scary?
Or maybe it's that there's actually something.
Maybe I'm climbing a big flight of wooden stairs,
Some steps rotting out, and some made of fine cherry.
Maybe when I reach the top it'll be taken from me there.
A burden that I'll no longer ave to carry.
Which will be replaced by another mysterious something.

The will always be another stairwell.
There is always an upper story.
And until I give life a farewell,
I guess I'll be writing this story.

My Heartbeat

Feeling. My reality. My heartbeat.
Freezing. With nobody. No fellow heat.
Beatings. Comfort me? I won't retreat.
Cheating. So shallowly. Isn't that sweet?
Gleaning. So selfishly. You and Darwin should meet.

I've embraced it, and called out the dark.
They're laced in it, pre snuff out the spark.
Come bathe in it. Please, hit the mark.
They're hating this, this righteous shark.
Stop wasting it. Let me feel your heart.

I'm chasing it. Will someone push the cart.
Start facing it! Amidst death you should dart.
You're hating it. By the book you're so smart.
Don't change to it, but really, play your part.
I'm taking it, and thank God, I'm not so smart.

Numbness. I'm safe now, I'm nothing.
Dumbness. I choose to know nothing.
Gumless, I bite, detached from all things.
Now rest, flee from my weak suffering.
Should I jest? Should I do something?

I'm broken down. My actions are dead.
I'm powerful now, in a way I'm ahead.
I choose to wow, you can't get in my head.
I can take a bow, go sleep in the shed
I milk the cow, spill it. Why was it fed?
I'm effortless. It's my comforting med.
A lot to chow, maybe doing that next.
I wipe my brow, remember where I'm led
I'm through now, with being through instead.
I know how to produce. You're my bread.