Home
In the sterile-white shower
With a pen
And the sleeve of my favorite Beatles' vinyl.
I figured
Give them something meaningful
Unlike the wasted life
Of that dick, Ryan Ross.
Brendon went home with Spencer
Where they'd try acid
And fuck
And fall in love.
Jon went home with his wife
Where they'd watch sitcoms
And make love
And cuddle their cats.
I went home with the pills
Where I'd swipe an extra razorblade
And write a bullshit farewell note
And fall to sleep.
The drug bottle was orange
So I emptied it into my throat
And threw it the fuck out
Because I'm not having anything tacky involved in
The one goddamned thing I've ever done right.
I wore a plain, white dress-shirt
Because It will look so classy stained red
Next to my black slacks.
The sky outside is dark
And if you were to walk out of the bathroom
You'd find a cramped living room
With brown walls
And a brown couch
And a brown table
And absolutely nothing else.
The whole world is brown
With the petty small talk
And the shallow affairs
And the nine-to-five cubicle jobs.
I'm not leaving much behind.
The only thing I ever cared about
Was, too, brown.
Long lashed
And bright.
Caught in a haze
Everything was silent
Except for the soothing pulse
Of blood rushing gently in my veins.
I would be free
From the artificiality
From the bottom of the food chain
And best of all,
From the loneliness.
I need something without language,
Something unrestricted by guidelines
Because lonely isn't a word.
It's when you've been sitting in a glass room your whole life
Watching the buzz
But unable to indulge.
It's that hopelessness, like a robot who responds
But cannot feel
At least on the surface.
It's like being an ugly puppy--
No one looks at you
Because you're sad
Which makes them sad
Which makes you sad.
I need nothingness.
With the first good cut, I think,
"No one will cry for me."
With the second I wonder,
"How many will be glad?"
With the third cut I think,
"Shouldn't I cut vertically?"
And with the fourth I think,
"Ross, nobody gives a fuck;
Not even when you're dead."
By the fifth cut I'm not thinking
Because I'm beginning to lose enough blood
So I smile
And I smile
And I
And
