Wild and rampant lion’s mane

Wasted nightmares coursing

Wearily through worn veins 

Beaten and corrupted 

By her outside influences

But, keeps to herself

Because that’s her method

To keep those inner demons out.

She rises through her ashes

Silently, like a phoenix with

Satin robes hanging from her

Shoulders like slip knots 

Hoards of cawing crows

Hide deep inside that 

Heart of hers, cawing

“How do they still live?”

“Is there no tomorrow?”

A tiny dancer, is she

Aloof and arrogant at times

Always hoping tomorrow 

Arrives, it might not happen

Devine as she is comes, a

Detrimental payment of her soul

Disgusts the very being that’s

Disheveled and destroyed

Within, within, within her.

Because she is the goddess of 

her own little universe. 

And everyone praises her

For giving them life.

The likes of Lil’ Peep and X 

Hoping by eighteen you’ll move

Out to Vermont where you’ve 

Gotten a HellBoy neck tattoo

And streaks of sapphire hair 

While you break a bottle over your

Desk, sitting silently watching glass

You want to study theology, geographically

Thinking, about how 

The world will never get better

But, it will

And after you find yourself, 

Run away from those 

Sad boys like you who 

Pierce their ears and hope that

Tomorrow brings the end 

Because sad boys like you

Have nothing left to lose 

Peer through to find said pupils

Chewing on the pink eraser tips

And staring into a clear corner crack

Walk past and you’ll miss it

The words on the board swirling in cursive

Swimming in a sea of eggshell white

Stand there too long and the woman in white

Will yell at you and your pasty paper pass

So tread warily in the concrete halls 

Carefully slink pass the sleeping monitor

And end up in the bathroom, the place

You told Mrs. Whoever you went to

Over half an hour ago

An iced caramel macchiato should do the trick

So I walk down to Star Bucks and hum Mac Demarco’s

Chamber of Reflections on the sidewalk 

Letting synths lift me off the ground

And then give three of my star bucks to the barista 

Who spells my name wrong even if

My name only has three letters in it

Then argue with her for putting whole milk 

Instead of soy milk in my latte because

I have to reach my daily amount of macros

So I get that summer bod everyone doesn’t have

But she doesn’t believe that the

Customer is always right 

I end up taking the whole milk latte

And walk back home angrily sipping

My whole milk Star Bucks latte aware that

I just wasted three of my darn star bucks

And now I just wants some hot Takis

Knowing I might regret it later when

I sit on the throne, channel my inner

Maya Angelou and let the caged bird sing

But, it’s my birthday and it’s the one day 

Where I know the world revolves around me

And only me