Vice Parade

trying to catch a flea. one of life's great pastimes.
trying to kill a vice. one of life's even greater pastimes:

there it is!
get it off!
it moves to fast.
it lands and it multiplies and it drains you of blood.
you tried.
you missed it.
so you itch it some more.

but i'll make it a circus.
i'll give my vices little pea coats and whips. I'll teach it tricks and to do dances and even some feats for the crowds.

you would have paid for my show. but i don't know who else would agree. they'd say, "Ew, you got lice, I can't stand the sight of vice!"

So, at last I am alone, with my miny entourage of vice. Just me and some worms and hermione and ron. a little magic could go a long way in making visitors stay.

but alone i'd rather be. it's chock full in my head any-way.
even if i got lonely today i'd say the parties pretty full.
How could you compete with a circus of tricks taking my lobes and playing feats that outwit my own hopes!

so thorny it is when i think I'm in love! i crave cavernous inklings of poetic mainstream! I give credit.

even when i talk to people i feel separate.

i feel like an outcast.
i just want to admire butterflies and hold them on my knuckle. i want to be in the rain and look up at the clouds. i want to walk around with music in my head. the singers understand what i feel.

i feel to much sadness, it weighs down their balloons.

i want to discover things.
i want creatures to help me chase this drink, this existence. to understand why its hard for me. don't criticize oddities but enjoy flaunting them like a paint brush to the sky.

there cant be two of you. you should have died so you say?

everyone else has a normal problem. maybe they just don't like fleas....

i feel so blue while seeking for green.
"you'll never it find it like that!"
"no, but maybe my color is black?"
she looks down at me, eyeing my black t-shirt and scoffs.
"for someone so black, you paint a colorful woe."

so poetry I get, as a partying gift of death. poetry and a circus and a bowl full of chuck.
the vacuity without you is daunting. at least before i had my heartstring attached!
i am not sure where you are, but for a while i was. now i'm confused, and the fleas are selling out every night!

now i am alone again. caught up in a nagging addiction that will hurt me to hell. i pray for the strength to make it go away. i can't. it's the only thing that helps.

pills every night and dinner isn't down. my teeth hurt and my brain is confused. it's not really pretty, not even "heroin chic."

it's better in the dark no one likes you with barf.

especially me.