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he's rolie polie olie
he's something something round
and in this land of curves and curls
he's the swellest kid around
he's rolie polie olie
he stands and then falls down
and rolls away
something...gay
WEANH!!!

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writing songs
try to make contact
with another life form
a life force
but those phones
made of cans and string
just won't do the trick
and there's nothing more advanced
that i can create on my own
looks like
i'll never find a way out
trapped here forever
and i swear
only he can make webcam photos beautiful
thrashing around
he's into me
but the sound of his voice
leaves me speechless
maybe he's my contact?
the way i see it
is he's too perfect for this world
cans and string
sickening
writing songs
EPIC FAIL
WOOP WOOP
just try telling me
i'm wrong.

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it's hard
to have faith
when
nothing in your life
has ever
ever
EVER
worked out

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i'm digging
this sense of hope
that you've put in the air
and as of late
i'm ok
<3

this is just
another weak as shit
excuse for poetry...

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the time of shame
is in this era
in times of pain
of merciless bloodthirst
from which
there is no
ESCAPE
the time of shame
is here
in this world
in this society
in this mind
times of pain
times of shame
let bloodthirst reign
embrace the darkness
for nothing
can save you now
our best option
is to just...
give in
just...
GIVE UP.