breaths of you in bottled scent

the natural-made-artificial

concoction of cosmos

passing by to turn

moments into delusional realities


via Daily Prompt: Perfume


abandon (me(a)nt)

how many of us out here with nobody

all the while trying to be somebody

do some body


those that could love but don’t


wound others to the tune of

the brokenness within themselves


but that’s not on you to fix

you young ones just entering realization


if nothing else

learn this & learn it well:

suffering is not yours to cure


daily vlogs? heh. i don’t have a proper life.

convenient excuse will excuse~

turn you lonely though

doing too much, doing nothing

we’re all out here fucking around either way

hearing the deafness, feeling the numbness

i want the world to heal these wounds

but i keep getting maimed by the same


the last thing you loved

can’t even fake


Current State of Affairs

what is there to get out of life

when you already got all you wanted

did all you wanted


swimmingly lazily in a pile of debt

I was cool last year, last summer

I’m not much of anything this year,

even with this fiery summer o’ war

roaring up ahead


no, still it’s

all quiet on the western front

there’s nothing to look forward to

“there’s nothing to look forward to”

most accurate statement of my life. heart pinned with a dart straight through. well i didn’t prepare enough. action never took to lead a decent life–scratch that–to lead life at all.

fuck it since fucked anyway.

fuck away

“there’s nothing to look forward to”

days to waste away while helplessly throwing hands up at a falling sky.

don’t wake me up, shut me down instead. a memory wiped clean. times were better when being a kid blinded one to the fact all was shit. is shit.

when is Day gonna come?

when all I have are days

“there’s nothing to look forward to”

contained in perpetual oppression. it’s not me that’s depressed, it’s not me that’s broken. it’s the fucking world that binds, distorts, and spits me out. out into a cage to constantly bang head against only one in a multitude of bars.

sing the wrong tune thinking it is righteous.

i am as corrupt as the cage.

i am just

Find the Good

I had no intention, intent-baselessness, I had no direct aim. Aimed dead straight. This is the place to be: centered on action when really inactive.

Revolutionary of the times.

No one will remember this name; they’ll know the collective that usurped all out-dated established.

Humanity was always a struggle. Oh, don’t you read? I’ve read them all. Toxic self-serving individuals hinder us all. Utopia could be, but human is human: that trait latent in all. Ugliness. That is the human race. Suffering. A condition with failed treatment.

Acceptance of atrocities.

This is what majoring in English gets you: the ability to see multiple perspectives, a kaleidoscope of views, so that humanity reveals itself to you like a bubbling toxic vat of capabilities.

I don’t care for the future of humanity, long since doomed, I care for the future of goodness.

Bad Day

Trying to find room to spread my wings and am smothered by the growing amount of people taking up space where there used to be room. Irritating time of the year and it only is getting more irritating. Classes that pile on readings and the writings of mine get shoveled into the corner. Make room for the studious drudge.

Can’t breathe.

Powers of authority that be would kill me if I weren’t wearing this skin. Isn’t that a creepy thought rather than a shrugged-hopeless-what-can-you-do-about-it mentality that society would like to instill in you so that the perpetuation of this ugliness occurs again. And again. And again.

No lives matter.

Everyone is being hunted and it just comes down to are you always in the right spaces and the right times and the luck of the draw. Do they draw on you? I would like to draw over famous paintings with crayons and pull out my organs and splatter them across famous sculptures. Am I crazy enough yet? Can I be locked away from the world so that the world doesn’t harm me? Done so much damage already.


Somewhere, someday something is gonna come. At least that’s what I overhear from screaming street corner preachers who think they have no accountability for the homeless ones littering the street tossed away by the very country full of people that should help them. I want to help them but my pockets are empty and there are no connections to the community here that could come together and bring real change. Take people off the streets and into their expensive condos that priced these same homeless out into the streets. I fucking hate people.

Lives matter.

Irritation at every turn. The university is packed fuller and fuller of bodies with bigger and bigger amounts of debt. Squeezing all these people into a place to condense them into debt workers. Working off that debt the rest of your life. No one ever has money these days, they just have debt. I’ve come to not give a shit. Run that credit score into the ground and along with it my entire life. I wouldn’t be surprised if I’m homeless in a few years, that is, if war doesn’t come.