We aim to bemen who’ll makeour mothers proud,but we end upmaking them cry,and are onlyslightly betterthan our fathers,at best

Now I’msober and Irealize, Ididn’t drink toescape the world,I drank to escapemyself

Some days I’mtrying to forcea smile sohard it feelslike I mightshit my pants

There’s a universalunderstanding betweenmen of the silent sorrowa man endures whenhe loses a woman heloves

It’s sadthat burnt marshmallowsmake me think ofmethamphetamine,when theyshould bringback childhoodmemories ofs’mores

He was tiredof being calleda fag and teasedfor his sexualityby one of the guards,so he tried to hanghimself, twiceThe kid got a littlecloser the secondtime, but I won’t bearound to see athird

and tonight we held each other, one last time,like a dance to aslow songon an empty floor, underneath a singledisco ballin front of no oneat all

I’ve looked at somuch porn thatevery woman I meetlooks vaguelyfamiliar

Failure is the new success.