Why can't she just see it in my eyes? The rifles echo through my dorm room, the walls are looking particularly yellow as the people across the hall bellow to some cartoon. I don't need my chemical sustenance any more, I'm through with being tired, sick, and broke. I'm tired of failing at everything I attempt, I really am. I'm through with being judged, self righteous people make me ill. I won't judge you based on how you live your life as long as it's somewhere within the social norms and mores of society. I'm tired of fucking drinking reused water bottles filled with recycled sink water and never having money to grab a bite when the cafeteria is closed. The room is spinning at a snails pace, the foundation supporting my feet giving out all the while.

"Dog Days"

Our love is like a summer rain,
Warm, wet, and violently sensational,
Breaking the stagnant summer air,
The sheets swirl like the sky in my dreams,
Your breath is the wind gentle and real,
I feel you push against me lightheaded,
My back is the bridge across our river,
I cum,
I feel no regret in my heart as I get up,
Sliding up  my legs like my hand up your thighs,
I get in my car and drive home.

"Billy Bragg: 8:13PM  Saturday, August 2nd "
Time is passing so slowly these days,
Shattered lives surround me like the potting soil of a dropped plant,
I walk these broad streets waiting for a response from some almighty,
It looks as if he's forgotten the worn faces I pass by,
Single tears on each face are a facade, a play at normalcy,
I watch my life flash on the slabs of tanned concrete,
Shaking with my crutch in my hand I start to loosen up,
Maybe life in every scene is exactly the same as it is now,
The world, my life, my wasted days, all exactly the same.

Belle Lucille: My Condition on a Warm, July Night

“Dead Mime’s Theme”  
Summer’s breezes blow through the fields for the last time,
The petals on roses in grease bins are wilted behind the Greek café,
Change and idealism are slowly escaping my sepia vision,
New chances seem distant as the frost grips the grass in the countryside,
Mazurka, Sibelius, a waltz off in the distance comforts my liquor-addled soul,

“Finlandia Hymn/Heron’s Jail theme”
The cold wind bites at my chest through the bottle of Mad Dog in my breast pocket,
Holes in my boots welcome the snow on the ground like an old friend,
Grey screens are slowly bringing winter to Gil while he rots in jail,
Pounding rain outside beats like the drums of war from a greater army than my own,  
It’s a shame that Gil will never feel the rain on his skin.

“Autumn Sleep”
Adrift within the changing season loneliness hits like a finger on a keyboard,
My heel shows through the broken, dry leather on my boots,
Blue snow shows my worn shoeprint, it knows my story,
The horizon is bleak, as though the seasons will never change again,
Bukowski, Brautigan, and Kerouac are all full of it; the human condition is glorious.

"some kind of wonderful"

Standing on the edge of the cliff I stare out into the distance,
The oblivion envelopes me,
The Lions and Lambs sit in judgment of me in my final moments,
The weasels laugh that I care,
I shed that one tear as I see the world I knew shortly fade,
My tear ducts sewn shut,
Salvador Dali has nothing on the dimensions of my world,
Melting time destroys all doubt of relativity,
When the leaves come we'll be together forever,
Three minutes in hell seven in heaven,
Forty virgins never tempted me as much as the moment in Vonnegut,
Everything was real, even the yuppie sunscreen,
The daft uniforms in the blazing heat.
  

Im so scared of my own actions,
Into the night I go alone,
like warring asian factions,
I stand chilled to the bone,

Of myself my past and my future being,
The light at the end of the tunnel is everlasting, 
It seems like the women in my life are all seeing,
Time in a bottle is only good to get the casting,

Maybe one day true happiness will come my way,
I doubt it will knock on my door any time soon,
But if, by chance, it heads my way I'll let it stay,
Since I lost it once before I get to croon,

Through ballads, lyrics and songs everything in my life,
No one wants a man who will live and die by his knife.   

 In every single day I try to find one beautiful thing, whether it's a girl or some tangible thing I turn metaphoric. Roses in greasebins. Life is what you make of it, if you try to see the beaty in the world you will see it, if you don't you wont. The longer you delay and drag out the sunset, the more christlike you feel. I love this life, every day is worth living and every day lived is lived that way for a reason, I fucking love it all with all my heart. 

Thunder, lightning, fire, rain,
Mischief, violence, love and pain,
The skies open up to a gentle release,
Around the corner lurks the golden beasts,
From lilting six to triumphal two,
The thoughts and emotions always true,
Chords ring out like prayers to the great above,
Never forgetting mankinds true love,
In the darkness these shots ring out,
No more will I ever doubt.     

 Johnny says he's bound by only 6 strings to this world, Johnny says he'll keep them always one trun out of tune, Johnny never listens to the kids that say, JOHNNY X aint never done the right thing anyway!