Easy.

I got tired easy
when it's sunny outside.
All I sense are chaos,
it keeps blowing my mind.
Many nights that I cry,
do not ask me why,
don't tell me it's just life.
There's chaos in my head
that gets me longing for death.

I got high easy
when it's dark outside.
When it rains & moody,
then I come alive.
The contrasts are dull
like the dreams I forget.
When I ponder the silhouettes,
and everything is quiet.

I got hurt easy,
and there's no way back.
I laughed at your scars,
and you see mine just fine.
This modern life,
how's your ado?
Can't look you in the eyes
unless I have nothing to lose.

I got forgotten easy,
another plastic face.
The Earth wants to claim me,
I feel the time's hold.
Never knew how to fight,
so I just stood still.
Now I know it doesn't matter,
nobody ever grows old.

Unborn.

There's a place called the Mother's Womb.
It nurtures a seed till it's swept away.
Don't look twice inside this digged grave,
so much echos of the cosmos' rage.

A fruit rotting in the all-giving tree
landed in dirt and made it a gift.
Don't be fooled or you'll lose the vein.
There's no tale about the unborn babe.

Spell-breaker.

I'm a spell-breaker,
a free-er of souls.
I smudge the line for a bridge,
and I don't care where you'd go.

I'm a spell-finder,
a scavenger of Void.
I search for signs of life
that's your last breath.

I'm a spell-weaver
one that has no hole.
The sufferings that I collected
will need a garden to grow.

I'm a spell-binder,
an eater of the world.
Anything I see I shall own
each & every where I go.

Fools.

Spent a lifetime running away
until too old & need a rest.
Just when you make a clean break,
it sneaks up & kicks you in the nuts.

There are many a fool
thinking they're clever & good,
going every other ways
except the path they should.

Missing pillars & foundations,
this top-heavy pyramid.
Just because the sun's shinning
doesn't mean the ice castle ain't melting.

There are many a fool
thinking they're clever & good,
spending money to feel alright,
prostrating & sucking cocainated asses.

Missing mothers & fathers,
this gut-wrenching family life.
Just because the moon is full
doesn't repent a single April fool.

Punch.

I ain't pulling punches, yo,
cause it's my goddamned rocket ship.
Don't mean to offend y'all,
ladies & genital sticks.
Never been to any club
that doesn't have piss stains.
So if you're talking to me
you know it ain't about civilities.
Tired of your sacred lies &
million-dollar fairy tales.
It's never what's been told,
but what's been left out.
Get a shovel, protect your 6,
and punch your own way out.
You never know, find the groove,
life might be worthwhile.

Breath.

My teacher tells me to take time to breath.
She doesn't know I'm planning my great escape.
Don't you know what's lurking behind the scenes?
Darkness is what protects you from madness.

Waves upon waves of anxiety wash over me.
In my head I tested the limits of human kindness.
I'm not doing my part, I'm the weakest link,
blanket me in, tear me up make no differences.

It is now, I make the jump, in the air for the while,
losing my grip, never mind the rhyme, balance all lost. 
A little voice tells me maybe it's time to be wild.
What can I do? I head to the shop, new cloths, new shoes.

Do you see a new world spawning constantly?
It doesn't care nor counts on my so-called humanity.
I'm breathless playing catch up like a mad galaxy.
It's no joke, life's a crook, my love unrequited.

Smell the Chicken Shit.

Warm & sunny day, chickens are at play.
Movements on the ground
when you bother to look around:
bugs & grassy veins.
Wind plucks the chords.
Sticky candy between my teeth
as I admire sweetly.
Holistic chickens shit prestigiously,
attracts flies & my jealousy.
Having a yard is great
until you have fat birds.
Is it big enough or are they bored? 
Did they swallow up the resident lizard?
Yes, it did. I saw it with its
neck broken dangling in a beak
before being swallowed whole
so the other chicken wouldn't get at it.
And it fights the other birds,
and squirrels, insects good and bad.
Still, I pet them every chance I get.

QLR.

Oh, hey! Ho! Library. Heh, heh.
Let me tell you, little quarantinites,
There's a place shrouded in mystery.
It's called a library &
it's where the books live,
and videos, magazines.
Yo! But it's closed
because of quarantine,
but they give you a number
to dial while you sit.
Then they ask your library card
so you better brought it & such.
Then you open your trunk
until the books are safe & sound.
So, thank you, librarians
for keeping the books from harm.