Existence 101

Put your hand up quietly if you want to leave,

or if you want to breathe.

Say please and thank you as we shackle you to these

societal expectations.

Innovations made to cage the nation.

Chase the empty symbols.

The singles in your area

can quiet your hysteria.

And if you ever question why

we’ll only sigh and remind you

of when you signed your soul over to us.

Be patient, we’re just the agents.

It’s with Satan you’ll want to discuss.

Consumed with consumerism.

A prison of desires and lusts.

I must make a post to save the whales

as I toss another plastic bottle in the ocean.

Never still enough to think of consequences

or mend the fences.

To make real friends made of blood

not pixels. I’m fixated on fantasies

with no gravity. Digital insanity.

Was it better before or after the pills?

They’re still keeping me at the brink, I think,

between depression and something worse.

I curse, then reverse and re-rehearse

my scripted smile and pleasantries.

Why go out and plant twenty trees

when I can stay at home and choke for free?

If only I had the drive to take back my mind

but alas, the thought is lost in the froth

of the waves of the storm as I’m torn between

one distraction and another.

I could keep trying but why bother?

I put my hand down, turn my frown around

and wait for the sweet sound

of the clock running out.

Existence 101, class dismissed.

I hope it was all worth it

because I have no idea what comes after this.

Not a poet

I'm not a poet.

I'm just a half-baked, wannabe novelist

who can't go a few sentences without

freezing up with writer's block.

So I slap on a few lines,

put in a pretentious

line break every now and then

and call it a day.

Poetry is the highest form of literature,

I cope to myself.

My creativity bleeding out from

another aborted story

dying to be told.

Someday, I tell myself.

Someday, I say again years later.

Someday.

Social Entropy

I don't see my friends as much.

Too much social entropy.

If laughter is the shortest distance,

then silence is the longest

Climbing higher every year,

my parents seem so proud.

How long would it take, I wonder,

to hit the ground from up here?

The more zeroes on my pay check,

the more I feel nothing inside.

I just smile until it starts raining,

when no one can tell I'm crying

Repeating the same lines

to the same people everyday.

Until the words lose their meaning.

A paid actor with no salary.

I wonder what's worse;

that one day I'll clock on

and never clock off.

Or clock off

and never clock on