the title of my autobiography will be “up all night pissing”
the title of my autobiography is [series of low grunts, loud coughing, phlegm]
my biography will be a small pile of dead skin picked from my face
my biography isnt about anything
my biography is just white space
in a past life i was called Full Bladder
in a past life i probably had diabetes
in this life i have the body of a 70 year old
in this body i have the mind of a 70 year old
my back hurts and im tired of pissing
im tired
my body is a temple
my organs are being sacrificed in ritual
to some god or demon
who believes in stomach pain and cramps
TRees are important
i think people mistake being alone with freedom too often
the feeling that you can do whatever you feel like when you are alone
you dont have to share the tv
and you dont have to worry about staying out too late
as if the people around you only serve to shackle you
the longer you are alone
the more trapped you become
you develop bad habits and grow anxious
of the world outside
if a dog is left alone for too long
the dog will start destroying the environment around it
tearing up your shoes or pissing on the floor
biting and scratching whatever it can
if a human is left alone for too long
the human will start destroying itself
both mentally and physically
today i made a friend for the first time in ages
we talked for a while but we were very different people
but we stood outside and we smoked together
and no one else smoked
it is funny to me that the first friend i’ve made in a while
the only thing we have in common
is the method of our self destruction
funny, and fucking sad
water me
i need nourishment
water me with your piss
im watering my plants with my piss
im pissing on a plant
im eating a tomato i pissed on
wowoWOWOowowowowowowowowoow
friends listen up
Have U Seen My Whale #4 is now online!!!!! ♥ ♥ ♥
^_^
i’m in this!!! some poems from here and some new ones
http://husmw4.tumblr.com/adam_dickinson
wonderful as always <33
deep in the dark of this room
i am waiting with a clenched fist
there is nothing on my mind
there is nothing on my mind
there is nothing on my mind
there is nothing on my mind
i like your cheeks
you have beautiful cheeks
i am not so pretty
so why are we kissing
you wouldnt like me
im a criminal waiting to crime you
do a crime on me
make it beautiful
let the cops in
let them see what a beautiful crime looks like
let them see what an ugly boy
kissing a beautiful cheek
looks like
my only crime is not making you feel appreciated
luckily for me writing bad poems is not a crime yet
im just as surprised as you are
