I.C.

How far are we past points?
Having them, sharing them
fearing them, forgetting them.
All we need to be happy is need.
Our misery makes
for interesting stains
on boring sheets.
If we had
then we would stand out
I'm talking about we
that's me and us and ours
(mine)
which is funny

I dropped out of college
many
many
times
because I don't like
belonging
but here I'll say
we, us, ours
(mine)

because it seems
that it doesn't matter
you can say what you think you are
and they can act like they know were not

here I am
drowning in an unremarkable sea
of tired cliches
is there really anything more pathetic
then...what?

living a life of dreams
silent jealous rage
built on a solid foundation
of fear and self loathing
I feel like the second half
of "Flowers For Algernon"

I feel like vomiting
all over this page
and never writing again



wage slave or sell out?
maybe I'm just too lazy
for both

maybe that's the worst part

well if we hurt the ones we love
and I fucking hate myself
what the fuck does that mean?