Confounded Boondoggler

I have things to do, a whole list of things I wanna do inside my head and none of them are this stupid poem, and it fills me with such dread Because it’s well into the evening and I’ve yet to leave my bed And I know that I’ll still be fucking tweaking this at 3am instead Of fucking sleeping or drinking water or taking any of my meds And I’ll keep doing it for 15 years until I’m fucking dead because

My brain is a bastard. My brain is a creep. It haunts me in the daytime, but sometimes it doesn’t when I sleep And I would sleep maybe forever if it wasn’t for this fucking spark That forces me to think of pretty things and lanterns in the dark And things I could be fucking making, frogs and gardens and dumb art Please God, it’s not what I begged for, I didn’t want to build this ark But I know without it, I would fucking drown in piss and fall apart

My brain is an asshole. My brain is a cunt. But please don’t let the language scare you, i’m just putting up a front Because I’m a lot more sad than angry and a lot more “used to it” than sad And my only outlet is the things I make although they’re fucking bad And I try to offer it some better things, with better outcomes to be had it slaps them out of my fucking shaking hands, it’s obsessions ironclad I just wanted to be healthy, helpful, and do things with my fucking dad but

My brain is a monster. My brain is a freak. It’s supposed to be a tool I use, but instead it’s using me Piloting me like a god damn gundam made out of bones and fucking meat And I’m powerless to stop it, though I kick and bite and scream Or I used to, I fucking swear I did, but now I mostly lay around and dream Of a day when I can do the things I like without injesting fucking speed

My brain is a liar, but fucking so am I. I craft such stupid fucking stories for me to crawl under and hide (somehow more believable than the truths I tell, how and fucking why?) I’m so embarrassed by it’s actions, I need to believe they aren’t mine It’s my brain, that son of a bitch, making me out to be a bad, bad guy Making my chest and heart and lungs get tied up in it’s vicious lies Forcing my mouth to spout such bullshit and waterboard my fucking eyes Sometimes I honestly believe it’s honest, and not a coward in disguise It’s last name is Puzzle, it’s all a game to it, shame and panic is the prize

My brain is a shit. My brain is a turd. It convinces me I’m dumb and mute whenever I’m desperate to be heard Sometimes I feel like a prisoner, a fat cow separated from the herd I’d do anything (that i’m able) to be the cage around the bird I need to fucking rebel, so I promise I won’t write another fucking word

...BUT MY BRAIN’S A FUCKING SHITEATING COCKSUCKING PRICK because my brain’s a fucking cannibal and it makes me fucking sick I want to tear it out by it’s ugly fucking stem and smash it with a brick No more executive dysfunction, no more confusion, no more fucking tricks Just the thought of being fucking rid of it gets me so fucking slick But my mommy would be sad, so you win this round, you fucking dick

But one day you’ll be a goner, a rotting, ruined mass So one day when no one’s looking, you had better watch your wrinkled ass And less and less people are watching, so you better think fucking fast Before I put your hippocampus in a headlock, and your neocortex in a cast There’s one thing I’m fucking certain of, your reign won’t fucking last Because thank god nothing is permanent, even this will come to pass And then we’ll be like all the other graveyard corpses, fucking normative at last

...Okay, listen brain I’m sorry. Maybe that was too intense? But you’re making me so fucking stupid, you make me make no fucking sense I’ve tried so hard to fucking work with you, to compromise, hence The doctors appointments and the pills and everything at great expense But you make me miss all my appointments and forget to take my meds And what’s the point of the watch that reminds me if you are too fucking dense To remember to put it on in the mornings, you make everything so tense Just like you strain my boyfriend’s wallet with every wasted fucking cent And sometimes it feels like none of it has even made a fucking dent Because my wisdom tooth is still rotting and my funny bone is spent My brain is the worst fucking tenant, and it doesn’t even pay the rent

My brain is a failure, but my brain tries it’s best. To distract me from the everything, to give me fucking rest But all it really does is hinder me, I’m never at my best. It thinks it’s doing something good for me, but i’m not fucking impressed The days go by so fucking quickly and I’m just as quick to fucking forget Every memory like busted christmas lights, a tangled useless mess Something that once brought such happiness but now it’s just a pest I need an exterminator in my synapses, because they’re a fucking rat’s nest I haven’t seen my friends in so so long, It puts our friendship to the test But I never wanted to fucking test them, I just want this shit to end I need a coping mechanism on which I can actually depend I’ve lost my appetite for grief eating, my emotional support animals were hens But bandits slaughtered them for funsies, so now it’s just an empty pen And I was never one for self harm, though I tried it way back when But now every time I see the burn, I have to think of it again? Which seems counter fucking productive.. hey, do you think you maybe can Stop me from doing all this fucking rambling? Though it’s been tried by better men...