the day after, a dollar before

the winds are at it again,
stirring me from sleep
buzzing in my ear
like mosquitos in the night.
fuck it, give me your hand
but only if it's full of pills.

i cant admit that i want to be in the light
i can only tell you
im calcified on the inside
stones for legs, and shells for eyes
trying to avoid the buying and selling
of our collective cultural soul

do it,
sell it, buy it
at least  ill be fucking myself
and keeping my sweaty hands
in their bottomless pockets

cool killed itself
and all i want
is to be known as cool

i see the ledge,
i climbed the stairs
i saw the beautiful person
falling through air

screaming and yelling
can you see me now?
landing with a thud
and imprinting a smile

read this and weep,
the tree cut down
to plant a forest
in place of fallen ideals

im almost free
to show you how it feels
what ive conjured up
as being me