laying in bed the last week
searching my mind to tweak
endless pretend conversations to the atmosphere
is the divorce rate above fifty percent i do care

for this introvert dream
is it loneliness for real not just what it seems
to the grave?
yeah, i blame it on the old man
do that all i can
righteoussly so
if you would believe the stories you wouldn't go

and i heard trey sing the other day
''hearts break'', ''please don't go''
and i had heard the song before
and am i making any personal growth
seems i'm digging my mind for words to loathe
rather, i wish the meanings were exact, precise, and poignant
but like more to strain to rhyme like simon dormant

yes today might be a good day to put on simon and garfunkel
and i am making no personal growth these thoughts i have already thunk them
...

the emptiness is endless
josefine you're not here
the emptiness is endless
i have people around me but no one seems to care...
about an intellectual conversation or anything of that nature
you know i am, more, mature
sure, right
throw in points to the crowd, right
i am not sickened of myself
and usually i am not sick of myself
like most recluses they find pleasure in their thoughts
it has been a day hot
a battled one and i have had my ''krasslig''
and the end is haunting
as someone is pointing you haven't made one good line of poetry here, and you are not satisfied
there is nothing to hide
i have a lot to show
pretend conversations
make it snow
make it show
make it last
friends cast
out to sea on a raft together
weathering the stormy weather
and the poem will decline in quality and not get better
did you read my letter?
it's getting cooler in here
night is approaching the atmosphere
my thoughts, and conscious going on with me
and a source of joy at that
joy, the phish song, is phat