#fawm2026

[americansamuel]

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God, I’m so sorry that you made me in your image All I ever do is make you look bad.

And God, I regret how i never do finish anything i start for you And I hope I more than anything, that it don't make you mad.

I’ve spent twenty years needing an ego nap, Thirty years stuck in a substance trap and forty years with no brain.

And don’t get me wrong, a heart is nice And I’m no doubt grateful for my life

but i can quite clearly see how all that I’ve been doing, I’ve been doing in vain

~

I've always loved the feeling of SMOOTH, when duties ease into the following day and glide into the week after next relocating to back-burner, tasks that quietly slide off what’s no-longer-a-list just a blank sheet of paper, good-enough-looks-to-kiss the erased bullet-points, blanking out all the chores that were once more, but now never missed.

But sadly, the feeling is not always smooth: like when a neglected goal in its role is a personal truth,

It should hardly come as a surprise to any who I’ve known—considering how 'all of the things' are the things I postpone— I found an approach to limit all strife

So in hopes that the Buddhists were right about it, and fingers-crossed that my karma’s not all jacked to shit, I’ll be putting off any transcendence until my next life

[americansamuel]

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Tell us how you’re gonna get back your heart?

well first i’m gonna put my running shoes on take a shortcut thru the neighboring lawn and when the thief comes round the corner knife drawn —who—oh nah, wait, i gotta answer —just hang on allo??

Tommy , what’s wrong? Why do you sound like that?

Tiffany, what are you talkin about I barely even said hello—

Tommy!

Actually Tif, I did just have my heart stolen, do you think that’s why I sound different to you???

Why can’t I ever catch a break? and why is every new rule makin’ me feel like less of myself. Why do all these people who ain’t me why they always gotta try to tell me how to be? Since when do I need permission from you? I don’t need permission from you!

Just try to feel feel feel feel Just try to do something that is real real real real

Maybe it’s time you just give up on all you really don’t like to do!

I’m hiring a maid to clean up my neighbors house cuz I like my house dirty!

I’m gonna hire a dentist to take out my test and make my mom brush them for me.

And as for Tiffany! I’m gonna keep dating you cuz I like you if you like me too! <3

Whoa hey, Tommy— Listen carefully. I am your voice… from within YOU. These are your thoughts—The things you just said don’t make sense. Very different stuff from what we were singing about earlier. Also—Tifffany is your mother, not your girlfriend. I’m a little concerned, can we discuss a little bit—

NO HUSH.

Hey man, they’re getting away with your heart!

[americansamuel]

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I felt you rattling on my insides—determination in my core our planned traversal of the balustrade-adjacent-ledge—and sure I was not sober anymore,

Tho I’d been peering down my high, I’d kept my focus in the sky; upon a palm tree’s canopy—inviting sleep— of which my eye’d been on all week.

without sobriety no thing could stop our leap, we’d sow our plummet, and hope to reap whatever remains—less “our remains”—remained to keep

But I could not have been more wrong, It was not a place for slumber atop those fronds, and the same for us, so I concussed, and just saw black, until you must have woke me up

and by the time my eyes had opened. I was doubling all over; my one opportunity now a second chance, The trembling gone, the fear was lanced. What I said was also my doubling, I said, “look who’s no longer wobbling”

I said, "LOOK WHO’S NO LONGER WOBBLING"

sticks and stones may break my bones but I know nothing safer than a choice to leap into a tree from Jill’s third story balcony

If you haven't seen your own rock bottom it means there’s still a ways to go pretending might deceive on paper, but the scissors run that show.

There is no shortcut when you’re learning what it feels like to fuck up so stop pretending like you got this mother fucker, you got what?

and if you shoot your shot and failure finds you thinking you’re alone then you’ll be pleased to learn that’s not the case your skeleton is just unburied bones

you’re only here because your bones are not beneath the ground so rattle them, that's stability, as sound, the destination doesn’t matter just keep moving them around it’s how we’re marrowing the essence of the souls to which we’re bound it’s not my bones that made me sore, but it’s my bones that make me sure, my skeleton is working harder than I give her credit for

Go!

I'll tell you what: Sticks and stones can’t ever break my bones. There’s not some skeleton in me. I’m proud of all 206 these bones. This skeleton IS me.

[americansamuel]

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Procrastinating when I should have been brushing your hair

And now I’m constantly an echo reassuring you I care.

But you’re not there. You're not there? It’s not fair. It’s not fair?

I overheard them say to you that I’m a fuckup—and it’s true—though it’s not for any of reasons they were telling you—

And I would regret every single thing I ever said that I only spoke in my own head —and never to you as like the least that I could do— except I think you heard me anyway

did you hear anyway? did them anyway?

(you think about all these cigarettes?)