school shmool.

i really hate how people treat me here. theres no respect. if they had any idea how far away from their thoughts i was. if only they knew me. its like my skin is green. and everyone keeps saying " your skin is red." and they get mad at me, cus my skin is red. but its fucking not. nor will it ever be. not even a little bit. i love people. i hate what they can do sometimes. the evil within them, makes me so sad... i just loose faith all the time. gaining it back is the hardest part. losing it is so much easier. why is life so hard? i dont evn want things to make sense, i dont want to be my mother, so sure of everything thats not true. so convinced her age has to do with her ability to see the truth.

i can not breathe in this polluted air

sensiblebusiness man coated ingold

how it is

The sensible living
aren’t interested in the dead,
unless there is money in it.
So little you can do with them.
What they say is in your head.
They visit in dreams but turn their backs
when you beg them to stay.
They are never hiding in your closet.
Empty jackets, loose sleeves yawn
on the hangers. Their cold feet
that they rubbed and rubbed
with their long sensitive fingers,
before they put on their socks,
never come back with their fine
fitted bones to warm your bed.

the ugly truth

In the Next Galaxy
Things will be different.
No one will lose their sight,
their hearing, their gallbladder.
It will be all Catskills with brand
new wrap-around verandas.
The idea of Hitler will not have vibrated yet.
While back here,
they are still cleaning out
pockets of wrinkled
Nazis hiding in Argentina.
But in the next galaxy,
certain planets will have true
blue skies and drinking water.