beauty is skin deep
mine is coming off in sheets
chemical peels
tanning salons
2 hour teeth whitening
a lobotomy
i am doing this to be beautiful
i am doing this to impress you

three more days and
i’ll have a ddr pad
i told my mom
i’m going to get in shape
i’m going to play ddr

for days
i’m going to play ddr

until my feet are bleeding

ten pound weights in each hand
amphetamines

60 year old men
crave me
ask if they can pay me
i try to explain that my cat
had to be put down
i don’t have the energy
ask if they can find me heroin
if they know of a generous doctor
i try to explain i’m dying
i only sleep with 40 year old youth pastors

see you at a party
see you at the mall
i avoid eye contact
make sure we don’t have to talk
i robbed your mom’s house for her jewelry
you’re probably still mad

titty fuck
titty fuck
fuck titty.

fuck. one year in the making. 200 odd pages.. so many meetings in committee and revisions.. I am on the final lesson plan of our new curriculum which I have essentially been designing, writing, and implementing on my own, and I have fucking writer's block since thursday. I want to throw my computer at the wall, but then again, I love my computer, and I don't have the apologetic skills of Ike Turner to lure her back to me after so lashing out ;(

"Writer's block" is a myth.

It doesn't exist.

Something else is the problem.

i have built mountains
from some sort of
practiced apathy.
i forget to feel guilt

this is close as i get to poetry. back in college(as is often the case) me and my friends got really into hip hop and made some songs, heres my favorite verse i wrote

this lyrical dexterity is known to be rarity, a disease without a cure, curious like the cat that was killed by the allure.
sippin on some cheap wine, im straight off the grape vine, aged, distillied, and ready to spit rhymes.
cause i hit more greens than tiger woods, supply the flame, cause i demand to feel good.
we on some hippie shit, trippin' in the meadows, cause weed and psychedelics go together like bed fellows.
and even though its all chill, sometimes i feel ill, sorta like sisyphus pushing boulders up a hill. i can't complain though