wair.

maybe i need to go sleep and wake up next week
maybe i need to know how it isn't
maybe i need to sleep
maybe i need to sleep
maybe i'll feed your need for finding muses in yourself, sick

why do you sleep with the moonlight
why do you sleep.
why don't you keep your mouthings.
keep them in your sing-song songings
sing me a songing
sing me to sleep.

and maybe i'll wake up two...

we'll be waking to the sunlight
in your car. you're living a life i've lived before
you're living my life. my life. my life
look around. realize you're not you.

or just find the answers
or just make something up
and write a poem for an everyone that you hope will find your angry belly. i want to be an angry belly, and i want to find an anyone that listens to my angry belly. and i want to be an angry belly, and i want my noise to turn around and bellow jelly. jello jelly giggle belly. belly belly belly. my mind is nothing but melly jelly and it's yelling at the way you've hurt me like a cougar that chews on a baby. i like to think i'm a cougar, that my mouth is a baby. that you're nowhere in my little world where i'm destroying everything that i want to see... a baby mainly. you. and me. and lifetimes together that tangle together as children that gather in memories to where you no longer no because remember! you no longer go, belong or know of anything that's me or anything that i've ever going to see or be or hear. hey, i don't hear you. i don't know you. no. not any longer .i'm nothing but a yellow bulb in a garage near a freeway with some trees and an iron that bats away the billets until... untill. untill. until what? until nothing.

i want to beat noise until nothing but my arms are worn before blackness.