The Episode Where Layne Makes a Blog

Lay in the grass

Against the highway

Where the wildflowers grow

Two steps away

From the stars

And three away

From the world

Close your eyes

Clasp your hands

Pray to the God you serve

Pray that flowers bloom

From your rotting body

Stay here

Forget your memories

Forget your scars

Forget the world

Forget who you are

Your name means nothing anymore

You are one with the wildflowers

You are one with death

Stay here

Decay alone

Watching the birds float through the wind

The flowers swaying in the breeze

The lights of the city, faded away

Numb yourself

To the smell of exhaust

Numb yourself

To the cigarette smoke

Numb yourself 

To the taste of tar

Numb yourself

To being no longer human

Wait to die

Allow it to come

Like a natural sort of things

Decay there

In the grass alongside the highway

Are you alive

Are you well

Are you holding onto the days

You have left

Swallowing the numbers on the calendar

Snuffing them in

Blowing them out

Do you wrap the

Moments you have left 

In a filter

Like a Marlboro you

Used to pass so innocently

From hand to hand

From lung to lung

Bloodied black

And ashen grey 

Do you feel the 

Moments you have left

Like the needle

In your vein

Sticking your arm for what

Some fun

Some life

Twisting it

Turning it like a knife

Do you look at yourself

In one-way mirrors

And assume you’re not welcome

Or do you know

As your breath fogs the glass

That you belong anywhere

But here

Will you bury yourself

Under your bones

Swallowing the dirt

As you take off your shirt

Fall into the grave

Six feet down

And sigh

Is it worth 

Experiencing anymore

The highs

The lows

Times you want to rip your skin

Straight from your bone

Will you just bury yourself

And put it to rest

The thoughts you can’t take

Can’t swallow

Can’t snuff

Can’t feel

Can’t you accept the truth?

goodnight, my dear

aren't you dreaming now

of a world like moscow

cold again

it's so cold on those streets

but maybe they

remind you of a home

you'll never visit again

so as your body

broke apart from your soul

i can imagine

you wanted to feel

society... a mere 4 miles away.

society, a place where forever lives.

and do i want to go?

i can't say i do.

society... you're a crazy one.

which is, in a way, the point of it all

The 4 hours of sleep I got won't catch up to me

The 4 hours of sleep I got won't catch up to me

The 4 hours of sleep I got won't catch up to me

The 4 hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhoourss offff slep I gott wont catch u dto me

There is something out there.

I'm not sure if it's a god.

Or merely the cosmic coincidence.

If there was a God,

A real God,

I think it would suffer just as we do.

Yes, I believe this being is an 'it'.

It is beyond the social constructs that make up gender.

I think if there is a God,

It suffers.

It cries.

You see it in the grime of the everyday.

The flowers against the tombstones.

The chill in the wind.

And I think there is nothing we can do

But suffer alongside it

And learn to live,

See the beauty in the world

God

Has made for us to distract

i'm really stupid

and really queer

my shower smells like cigarettes

why does my whiskey taste like hand sanitizer

what's the meaning of life

could i fit in a suitcase

why does my dog suck on my elbows