coward replied to your post: a portrait of the artist as a young fag

I have tht shirt

i got it today - its fucking great. i got it and a madoka magica shirt 

a portrait of the artist as a young fag

a portrait of the artist as a young fag

i work 9 hour shifts and get paid minimum wage and sometimes i just fucking revel in it

what do i do. go to work. what do i eat. soft drinks. what do i drink. grease. when i die i want to be buried under the freeway. so i can feel every car rumble over my corpse all the way in hell. and people will freely through trash and run over animals on top of my grave. i will smile and leave a crack in the cement. dont leave any flowers at my funeral; i wouldnt want anyone to get hit by a car mid-flower-laying. what do i do. go to work. what do i eat. soft drinks. what do i drink. grease. i stared at the moon while driving home tonight. i almost died doing so. i was speeding at 70mph and almost smashed into a telephone pole so that i could glance at the moon’s full, yellow face for 4 seconds and i would have not felt bad had i died. i want to create a host of memories of almost deaths. i want my life to be filled with close encounters so that i can appreciate what i had all the more once im gone. what do i do. go to work. what do i eat. soft drinks. what do i eat. grease.

i fucking hate this poem but i love whales and the beach and the sea

in my dreams
i walk with sperm whales
at the bottom of the sea

they feed upon squid
as i push against thousands
of tons of pressure
from the black water
surrounding me

i kick up sand
and the clouds
engulf me

i watch as a sperm whale
falls to the bottom
dead, from a squid
piercing its eye (therefore brain)
with its beak

i feel my eyes going black
as the pressure builds
upon my brain not designed
for the abyss

one of them takes me into its mouth
and carries me off to the surface
where i wash up on the beach
covered in barnacles and seaweed
my body’s blood coursing
with saltwater

 

internetpoetry:

image macro by jellohowsitgoing

internetpoetry:

image macro by jellohowsitgoing

28 Aug 2014 / Reblogged from internetpoetry with 25 notes

my organs are rotting and i am dead and oh god do i ever want a cigarette

there is a soft glow in my heart
as i realize all of my organs
are rotting from the inside out
and filled with wet sand from the
beaches of the pacific

im holding my head in my arms
blood is running down from my neck
the draft blowing across my
exposed spinal cord hurts like
a motherfucker

i carry around my head saying hi
to strangers who probably hate me
for saying hi to them on a bad day
and scream when they see the blood
pooling at my feet

it takes me five hours to realize
ive been a walking decapitated corpse
and my body finally takes a rest
against the curb

and my head is set down gently
the wet sand is beginning to
pour forth from my fingers
the pacific is leaking from my
fingertips