i wake up gently
it’s such a beautiful day
i feel very ill
i’m not welcome here
i have nowhere else to go
scratching at the door
map the universe
calculate every outcome
never live a day
business is business
the flies are dropping like flies
but boys will be boys
“will you be the moss?”
i’ll be whatever you want
to stay here like this
i can keep cleaning
but the mould will always win
it will outlive me
a robot creature
that for some reason hates me
“don’t break in my car”
banished as a child
a world inside a painting
slowly rots away
start threading the noose
i’m leaving today, you know
new york fucking sucks
a turn of the wheel
one more solar rotation
please keep on living
having faith in doubt
all metaphysical thought
stems from fear of death
fear creeps up my spine
the sense of being followed
from each dark corner
i’m not welcome here
i have nowhere else to go
scratching at the door