You feel awkward
being the only person
in modern society using sun guides.
Buried treasure never took anything but a little spirit
and a timely manner.
Just a few years too late. . .
I am expelling hate
like a blanket of muted volume
that shakes the walls.
I cant understand how
to feel as more than just one
unknown son.
two
times i tried knocking on your door.
in the rain with a heart
that just wont stop beating
like my ghost is being carjacked.
Now i smash empty bottles in telephone booths
bleeding into the mouthpiece
how it feels to believe in god
and know he fucking hates you.
or just loves watching the devil
give you handjobs in the gutter.
i just want to believe
in something better than this.
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