I wanted to write a poem about how I want to tear my eyes out and grind slat into the sockets, and scream until my lungs explode and my throat bleeds, but I can't really cause I don't have time... This evening was rather excruciating. Oh, and the scream is more like a primal bellow/roar than a chick in a horror movie who's just seen a zombie or some ugly green girl crawling out of a TV.

Sooo... just thought that in the wake of the death of such an influential and controversial public figure, I'd voice my comments. I don't particularly like Michael Jackson, but I do love a couple of his songs, and I'm generally sorry he's dead. I really wish that people would stop being so fucking insensitive and generally assholes...

I can laugh.
I can always laugh.

Sometimes it makes me hurt more, and sometimes it helps.

Rarely.

Sometimes I don't want to breathe, because that hurts...

but I always keep it up, because the alternative is far worse.

onthespot poetry at 2:41 AM not great, but it's fun to write...