Hello! Just your Neighborhood Psychopath Here by John Maurer

Things are as real as you want them to be
I can forget anything eventually with enough illicits
Enough Tennessee rye, enough flypaper that’s better flavored dry
Some potpourri and dried mango halves
Wearing a lei weaved of goat intestines
I’m plain paint drying just dying to be a painting

You drugged me before I drugged myself
But still, you loved me before I loved myself
I’ve been above the stars so from below
I’m not worried about what will happen next
I’m worried about what happened
Living is like dying for another one faced clock
The apocalypse isn’t coming, it happened
as-many-years-old-I-am ago on my birthday

John Maurer is a 23-year-old writer from Pittsburgh that writes fiction, poetry, and everything in-between, but his work always strives to portray that what is true is beautiful. He has been previously published in Claudius Speaks, The Bitchin’ Kitsch, Thought Catalog, and more than twenty others. @JohnPMaurer (johnpmaurer.com)

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