toss a match inside the pen
soaked in gasoline again
burn your pet boy
that you keep high
forced to understand
that it's ok to be
flimsy and weak
buried in a wrap
of moleskine pages lying in a
piss puddle
unfinished & abandoned
penned by my witch
accompanied by my fake doctor
and my imaginary witchdoctor
waiting for the "go-ahead"
from the suits in my head
worried to death
for being only a single
word ahead of what they heard
and more than a few days
behind the action
that would prove
my real intentionto everyone watching me
picking up toys
in a vending machine
that shit is never
so easy as it looks
wanting that god-damned watch
and settling for
a fucking faded grape gumball
chew and try as i might
i'm bound to choke to death
on that fucking gumball