F.T.Willz poems (prolly frank iero no one knows)

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my poor, overheated, gasping gray matter is running out of oxygen, much like a suicidal student sealed in an airtight garage with the engine running. dull thudding thudding thudding thud. drip. pour. splash. overflow. back up quick now. your eyes are full of hornets and black widow spiders, so please don't get too close to me. one third social awkwardness mixed with two parts stone cold livin' can do this to a person. typewriter teeth champing at the bit, foaming excess ink and clacking sounds. ding. time to change everything. change the mind and you change the body. change the body and you change the mind. but this takes time, effort, and money. dinosaurs could live without money, so why can't we? "because we're not dinosaurs, our brains are bigger than walnuts." ah, but size doesn't matter when it's splattered against the wall. then the mind doesn't matter, because it's kaput, pushing up daisies, gonezo. then the body doesn't matter, because the mask that all the world sees is disintegrated, because everyone looks the same when they've been decapitated by a shot gun shell. then nothing matters.

-F.T.WillZ