"off with his head, man, off with his head"

there is only one king and the rest are imitations, waiting for him to die and take over the throne. sometimes even the king's wife wishes death on him, so sick of all the women he beds during the day while turning his back to her at night. you remind me of a commoner waiting, trying to appease and take over. wasn't it easier back then? you could solve your own "problems"- behead her if she backtalks and kill the baby if it's a girl. stupid girl, death is the easy way out/in.

trash painted gold. wrappers with the winning number printed inside. a blank data chip. yard sale bargain. antique shop jackpot. spin a web of lies and deciet so thick you get tangled up in it. oxymorons like "forgotten memories." bend and mold yourself to be something that you're not but god- with enough work you could be. it doesn't have to be thousands of years ago to feel like we're going backwards. this doesn't make sense unless you have numbers etched into your arm or bedpost. unless you have goals someone else accomplished first. unless you ever made a game anyone else has then beat you at. people that make a living out of the dead- the drained and hopeless.

oh, spendthrift, wasting words like money. when was the last time air hit your face, sun soaked your skin and you felt alive? you felt like yourself? nineteen ninty..something. wait, or have you ever at all?

wallow in the weight of your decisions, wallow in the shadow of your own uselessness. wallow in the shadow of me. as long as i am alive you'll always just be trying. you'll always be an "almost".

people say i'm trying too hard, but they haven't met you.

why don't you remember my name i guess he does....

you could make me so sick if you weren't so much like me.

keep trying.

...maybe you'll become so much like me you will eventually erase me.