growing pains

i fall down the hill

’cause the grass rips straight out of the muddy ground

and the rain makes my hair go frizzy

i ruin my favorite pair of jeans

and i cry into my muddy fingers on the way home

i throw shit at the wall just to see what sticks

and i give up on myself, a little bit

’cause the only thing i want to write about

is just behind the door

i scream, and i shout, and i don’t know what to believe anymore

because the more i learn, the more confusing it gets

and i’m doing a puzzle with half the pieces missing

i’m trying to repair something that doesn’t need fixing

yeah i’m walking barefoot through the rain

plastering a smile over asphalt despair

gnashing my teeth, and pulling out my hair

cause all i can see is

stinging nettle glory;

burn my tongue on hot tea

and let its answer roll out before me


i was shaped

by scalding fingertips

call it god, call it trauma

i will answer your call with only sandpaper indifference


and sharpen my nails on the dining table

digging in the grooves deeper

and deeper

‘cause there’s no turning back now


the summer air

slides like soup down my throat

it chokes out the weeds

it cooks my bones to marrow

and casts a mirage down the highway


cause i can’t see what’s happening any more than you

so maybe this is a good time to try and

boil my memories into bitter stew

lobotomize myself

until there is nothing left of you


and if fucked up is state of mind

i was born in its capitol

and maybe it’s killing me, but it’s still

my home, and like it or not

i’m going down with this city


so i scrub the floor clean

and turn the tap hot enough to burn

laugh myself dizzy

and by the time i stop it is 10pm

and i am a puzzle box

with all the pieces on the floor


but i don’t know how to learn

if i’m not being punished

so i’ll sear it into my arm like a promise

i will not make myself sick for entertainment


but it’s just empty words

’cause after a while, you don’t feel it anymore