What is it?

Paradise is Axl Rose naked on a cloud

Just a-waitin' for me!

which came first,

the chicken

or the egg?

what should it matter

because the chicken

crossed the street

and never returned

leaving a cold little egg

in this world alone

whence they came,

no one knows,

but the egg has hatched

and a chicken was born.

isn’t it funny how suicide is alright?

but god forbid you reach for the needle

takes you from martyr to junkie,

druggie, smackhead, waste of potential, no good

die young at your own hand and live to see yourself loved

or stretch it out long enough to medicate and fall before a judge

maybe it’s just me, but i think they’re quite the same

and we should hold the standards as such.

thank you in advance for the space to promote my work!

my favorite piece of mine is the heart is a bone, a boo-hoo kinda love story, told in the irregular format of what's supposed to be a poem. allow me to shamelessly drop a link :)

https://theprose.com/post/388683/the-heart-is-a-bone

watch the twisty turny ripples on the telly

brains melt to nothing

leaves every orifice natural to the body

we're dying but we keep going

minds and teeth and hearts rotting

hell of a lot of baggage we're towing

where did it all go wrong?

when did we lose our taste, our respect,

our feeling?

we're numbed to the sensation

of our dignities ripped from our weak hands

impressionable and indoctrinated

if i die before twenty five,

i hope hell is where i land

these days my focuses have shifted

heavy rock glam kid to a

careless teen with reckless dreams

how i long for the sting of peruvian

for help, for love, for anything

i can not bear feeling this way

everything and nothing at all

please lord, tell me something

a tidbit i've wanted to know all along

where the fuck in the world do i belong?!

how do i live with the blood spatters

the pieces stuck to the walls

uselessly wasted brain matters pasted to the ceiling

for my soul i call

for a solution i beg

if there's a god out there

i guess all i can do is fucking pray.

here i sit, wondering where i’ll be in a month. in two months. in six months. in a year. in two years. in five years. in a decade.

what will i achieve?

who will i know?

how will i see?

who will i be?

they say that life changes people.

it has already damaged me,

beyond repair?

shit, maybe.

no one knows where it started

he was there and you were screaming

his skin was pale and his nails were long

you consider- was there really no sun in heaven?

he approaches you, and you back away

you bit your tongue but he's the one who bled

he begins to fade into a cloud of smoke

“i don’t want to forget about you!”

he’s already gone, but this moment is real

his fingernails graze like razors

watching your back and guarding your heel

he is here, he’s breathing but his heart has stopped

his cousin's CPR just wasn't enough

his sister watched his soul elevate to peace

you feel terrible for her,

at seven years old she saw too much

baby blues watching mocha browns die

the road before her is awful tough

and though his existence was ephemeral,

you remember that your love for him is eternal.

his lungs expanded for thirteen years,

he's been gone for three and

you tell yourself it's been seventy

because every moment he was gone

you were the only one at the grave

blonde boy blonde boy

ripped skinny jeans

blue-eyed sad boy

acid wash hoodies

comfortless and

your mom was a druggie

went to school where i met you

you hated everything

blonde boy blonde boy

bouncing legs and

vapes in class

you smoked your pot

popped your pills

followed in her footsteps

you never did fit in

you went to school and

pulled up late for class

they ignored you and

mocked you and

laughed at you together

they took your money and

they took your clothes and

stripped you of your dignity

they blew smoke in your face

wrapped their arms around your neck

watched you choke and twist about

your eyes went dead

six months later

you followed their footsteps

and hell welcomed you

with open arms

i miss you everyday

your big smile and your laugh

i miss your sweet face

your boldness and your words

i hope they gave you a switchblade

to carve your poems into your grave