Sunday, December 21, 2008
flashback
this whole noteboook 
is a factory defect.
each page tears 
as you turn it.
you should burn it.

the words will ascend
with that familiar smoke
smell of teenage hell,
rebellion and defeat,

sweetness of self-inflicted wounds
fills the air like incense 
swirling hypnotic trip-hop
blotter paper getaway 
til tomorrow's blasting headache
pins you to the bed
and everyone's mad at you
for not showing up.

looking back
is a scratch
on the chalkboard.
Written at 3:07 AM by kiai copy machine.
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