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

'club 27 has reached capacity'

your silence is weighted
poured on thick and antiquated
a lethargic bonfire. a mixed bag of emotional six flags meeting with a muffled yawn

it's time
to be
a grownup

or find your own path to heaven
either way, if you are really lucky only a handful of souls will actually notice that you are gone.

i don't wanna fuck this up
i don't wanna fuck this up
i don't wanna fuck this up
i don't wanna fuck this up
i don't wanna fuck this up
i don't wanna fuck this up
i don't wannafuck thisup
i don't wannafuckthis up
idon't wannafuck this up

.......ah man. and just when i was getting so good at fucking everything up too.
lithium carbonate

F.T.Willz (i believe)