i want to write something good again.

i want to run.




i want to drink.
i dont want to think.


i want to type anything
that means something
for someone else.
i dont want to be about myself.


and ive made these rules
that have done no good
everything worked out
exactly how it would
it would for me


every move is wrong.
everything ive done
blood on my hands.
and you dont understand.


you touched me then
on the birth of a new chapter
there was nothing i could have known
not until after.


it was good then
and that was it
now your stories got me feelin sick.


yeah you got to read it
on my face
quite a novel
but all over the place.


you rip out the pages
after yr done
and ill put them back together
one by one.


word by word
and i mean nothing
they were only words
no use fussing.


driving in cars
sitting in chairs
standing in sweaters
that no one wears.


and so do you want to talk
and ill freak out out
and ill want to run
thats what im about
get me high
make me scared
get drunk
then tell me you cared.