What

i can't help but want
to the point of destruction
until winning isn't satisfying
i get caught up in the challenge
of claiming what didn't want me
destroying any appeal i may have had
i want to the point of hurting
my desires, now cursed 
and i'm afraid of my own fantasies 
i want so defensively blind to selfishness 
anxious until the emptiness is rationed 
usually by influenced hope 
i do not want to stop wanting
but my obsessions may lead to harm
to my ego and society 
i just don't know how to change the want into something useful

I have a confession
More than one
Maybe two or three
They're beyond me
And my life no longer
Belongs to me
But to the heavens
Faith
Everything unreal
What I can't see
or feel
predict
or steer
is not mine, I don't want it
Leave it for those who'll scrummage 
For my pieces when I'm gone
When I've moved on
Like the many brave, before me
They've claimed my respect
Like soldiers, fighting
To take hold of lost tangibles 
Lost hope
Lost meanings 
In a way that renders all power
In their hands
Their weapons
Their victims.
Their minds
now restful. They have peace
and for that peace, I long
Longing till the skin melts off my face
on to my shoulders
down my stomach 
over my knees and on to the ground
Till the hair falls out of my head
my nails brittle
my bones unrecognisable 
I long for that peace
That silence 
That relief of pressure
That relief of emitted expectations
desires
goals
intentions
That all results in embarrassment 
Shame, failure or
The downward slope of climax
It all has to end somewhere
So I confess
I can see the end
of my struggle, my pain, and my worry
I've taken it back
the power is mine
and Its real
For me to see and to feel
I've figured out what I need
To give me that peace
and to give my mind a break
To give my mind an end
Its hope restored
Its dignity unscratched 
and pure
innocent
childlike 
Its kept in my calendar
My date with death
My date with romance
My date with my innards
It will be beautiful. 
It will be meaningless, and for once
Completely mine
Except the consequences 
But again I speak
with truth
and only truth
for I have nothing left to lose
One thing I do not keep room
for in the worry
of my mind
is my care of the effects
that I will easily leave behind
Those you can have
The regret
The sorrow
Are yours. 
Passed on to you from me
In ceremony.
But not ritual. It ends here 
And for you, I will not think what happens
I will not think at all
I will be silent
once and for all

they tell us "make it new"
with a list of lines to follow
wear your uniform
and use your gait to hide your wallows
hum the
myelinic chorus buzzing on repeat
you can have your arms
but keep your feet moving to the beat
get a job
get a wedding
have a kid or two and
in the mean time 
can you shit rainbows too? and
make them really good
different, and really you
everybody's listening to see what you can really do
but
the one thing that you only know you want is
the one thing you find the scariest to flaunt
and
Ms. Lorde says it's better not to taunt
ideas in our heads
but to share them instead
so
where's your middle in the middle of it all?
the place you can stand knowing it'll never fall
the view from where you can see the chorus as a song
and be making it new
with the things you long for?

if I had a new space
a waste place
of infinite and beautiful land
to park memories of
places and faces
things and happenings 
times and time itself
a landfill strewn unsorted
yet
subconsciously important
collected over seasons
from the almighty inlet's sequences of
forgetting and remembering
forgetting and remembering
for inside the inlet
I sit
crouch
live 
submit
protecting my body
and searching for the clear
have you seen this place near?
or anywhere here?
because if I had this new space
the waste place
of quiet mountains and sunsets
I could unplug the clog
relieve the fog
and walk in a 
damn 
straight
line
beyond this tunnel
into the unimaginable
seeing
being
tangibly
high
not having to come down and return
to the place I was before I burned
or deeper
if I had a new space
the waste place
to put away all the haste
for the hippies
for the strays
all the stoners
and the gays
I'd cut the fat
close the gaps
between reality and desire
between living high and living sober
in the past and without closure
exposing my skeleton 
for the make up of my bones
and the rawness of my entity
too essential to disown
indisputable I would be
defenseless
undistracted
loved
invincibly accepted
and by the inlet most of allmaybe
 it'd finally be clear
of the fear of never getting out of hear
or of drowning in the memories,
the haze and all the hate
that needs a place 
so the almighty inlet
doesn't go to waste

bobbin
glow stick bunny ears
hot bunnies and bass
water bottles
blow down
don't burn anyone here
don't shove
peace and love 
stand or sit 
and bob
get lost
in the dark
in the song
in the the thought
hands up
hands on 
me
cop a feel 
green lights
police 
welcome to your
new life
hiding spots
bombs and gangs
joints and blunts
cigarettes and
gay men gay men gay men
where are all them dyke bunnies at?
slow it down
make out
should be having sex
right now
text message
reply
held up
to the sky
never heard like this before
switched up
built up
faster
deeper
louder
steeper
climax soon
bobbin in front of you
bent knees
feet apart
fist pumpin
hair whipping
round and round
with all the bunnies just
bobbin to the sound
a dead mouse
antler ears
Canada
fuck yeah
drum and bass
and a taste of
em dee em eh
swaying
dancing
smiling
staring
flirting
stripping
crowd surfing
grabbing 
chopping
smoking
hopping
bobbin
with the bunnies 
at the rave
with the dj
and we're eating
ecstasy