I can not bare my lies anymore,

my secrets of insecurities.

I'm tired of shedding metaphors,

expecting for an applause.

Every line down the road is creaking my mind

and my vision is bursting with pain.

He's a drunken anchor and she's a chopped down giving tree.

Grandfather is rocking back pills, while his son blows a line.

And his son, my cousin certainly isn't straying away from any tree.

While Mr. dead beat is sailing boats in Florida.

So close to her and his tank top. 

I am overwhelmed and despondent.

I will kill for the sight of blood.

Why can I not shed one god damn tear?

Holden be my friend and cut me down. 

Tell me why you hate me.

I'm a contradiction

But I will stay true and call any ecologist a fool. 

I will kiss the brain of Shakespeare,

for he discovered the cure for sickness and love.

Death, sweet caring death, you will be my greatest victory.