One Jack Move

i cant think of a better way to write (so it reads like this)


Sometimes we write poems for other people that are really for ourselves. 

i get angry when people leave their pieces in me and just as guilty when i leave my pieces in them. 
and then i somehow feel love. incredible, helpless love. 

If you’re gonna be a deadbeat, be a deadbeat. If you’re gonna be an addict, by all means, be a fucking addict. But never be a deadbeat addict.

english didn’t start to become interesting to me until I realized the phrase “You and what are me?” is actually, “You and what army?” when I was about eight watching the Recess, School’s Out movie. A lot of stuff started making sense after that.

I am recluse and I keep telling myself that it’s okay.

It’s okay. 

my mom is being so cold today. Just so, so, so frigid. fuck.

“And someday soon I know I’ll cut my hair
and a week after that I know I won’t even care
thats what it all comes to
all along
everything that you feel
will one day feel wrong
I was talking to my friend Eric
just to see what he thunk
and he said
“Jeff, it’s weird
but I no longer look like a punk””

– jeffrey lewis

"you better not die before me."
"I can promise you until 63."
"I’m going to be so mad at you. I’m going to be so mad."
"baby, you can’t be mad!"
"yes I can."
"What’re you mad for?"
"marrying a man who can die."
"You’re going to die one day too."
"It never mattered so much before."