sitting in a room with no windows or doors and wondering when the rain will end. I can hear it through the myriad of tiny exclamations it makes but I can see it with my third eye, my karma eye. Its dark but I noticed that jesus told me to tell you that the world is ending or something. I noticed through the cigarette smoke and the heat that I was incidentally wearing my heart on my sleeve, people hate it when I do that but I do it all the time dont ask why and don't cry. That kid behind me is still talking to himself. it would annoy me if I wasn't already deaf to the banality of the lives of the living. Through the blood and the sweat and the alcohol I noticed that people were trying to decipher this poem to no avail only to meet with frustration to dissmiss it and then eventually die. Everybody dies. Let that be the focus of the ignorance when people crowd around this place and gape and awe. Makes me goddamn sick to be honest. The point is there is no point but art is art and who fucking asked me anyway. Well Ill put my cares in my pocket and walk away but still, still, still laughing at the lies they tell and the smiles they force and woe are them who walk the same path because, for fuck's sake. There could be piles of the stuff stitting next to me and no one would have the slightest clue because they can't open their fucking eyes.

Im not crazy but im getting there one step at a time. Just like the sun couldn't beat down on my neck if he wanted to. Im smarter.

Though thousands of lives fall victim to the quaking earth and the drowning sea I laugh and sing because I have wings.