Resolvi fazer um top 10 com os meus poemas favoritos do Frank por motivos de: sou completamente apaixonada por todos eles -- mas acho que isso não é novidade para ninguém. Vai ter F.T.Willz sim, porque o Frank não enganou ninguém com aquela historinha de "eu não tenho myspace e não faço ideia de quem seja F.T.Willz", huh.
Here we go:
1° - UNTITLED.
i am the fucking best at being the absolute worst.
i am the michael jordan of avoiding conversations.
i am the ludwig van beethoven of not cleaning up after myself.
i am the don draper of getting a stomach ache.
i am the mahatma gandhi of forgetting people’s names.
i am the steve jobs of clogging toilets.
i am the muhammad ali of misspelling words and incorrect punctuation.
i am the abraham lincoln of getting migraines.
i am the william shakespeare of falling down the stairs.
i am the mother teresa of procrastination.
i am the beatles of cumming too quick.
i am the jesus christ of angsty bullshit.
i am the coffee grinds at the bottom of your cup…the paper cut in between your fingers, the piss on the seat, the chapped lips, the humidity, the empty gas tank, the empty wallet, the boy that never called, the girl that wished you did, the complaint, the job, the boss, the traffic, the commercials, the time you did that thing you regret with your entire being.
i am alive at times and dead at others.
i am loved, and so i love.
i’ve been hurt, and so i hurt.
i am you, and you are me…
and we are perfectly imperfect...
as we should be.
2° - ‘SEARCH AND CREATE. CREATE AND DESTROY.’
yes, creation is difficult. heart wrenching and head splitting, bloodletting and agonizing, it’s all true. but the feeling you get when you put your back, neck, and soul into something and it comes out better than you could have ever hoped or imagined it would… that feeling is immense, and it is only topped when someone who truly understands is blown away by your creation and says to you, ‘wow. you made this?’ and you reply, 'no. it made me.’
once you experience this super nova, you will forever be changed, and you will forever chase your next fix. and that chase eventually destroys(defines) us all.
dear creators, my heart goes out to you.
[hash(tag) music, words, art, building, painting, photography, home, family, life, love.]
3° - ’ ‘
let’s not fool ourselves friends. the end of the world is here.
when all the white noise runs dry and the alcohol gets turned down to a dull hum …all we may have is each other’s shitty company.
(i will wait for you.)
though our lips have not touched, we breathe the same air
and as our molecules collide you shall know this to be true.
for if you don’t …well then maybe i’ve been wasting my time.
these things we say, are not just things we say…they are our lies and our truth. our love and our hate.
and though my tongue may be sharp at times, in my heart i believe in us.
let me decompose in this embrace and be reborn as a fond memory for the dust to settle on and enjoy.
the moments we’ve shared together, real or imagined, are just a preamble.
i look forward to floating, lost, in our vastness.
4° - ‘SPITTIN OFF THE DOCK OF THE BAY, WASTIN TIME.’
whiskey filled serenades.
sweet, distilled, sugary defeat.
your breath smells like you’re disappointed in me again.
li(v)e your life away, stagnant and stale.
my soul wanders and it troubles me still.
sleepwalking my days into weeks and then some.
unaware of where the truth ends and my li(f)e begins.
i’ll be just fine my dear.
let my wrists and i figure this one out on our own.
i’m gonna get some sleep tonight, even if it kills me.
5° - ‘A poet, a prophet, a motherfucking puppet, a modern-day ____ (fill-in the blank), nature’s ____ (insert noun here).’
Show me who you are on the inside…really? Me too. We’re so alike, where did you grow up? NO FUCKING WAY! A small town? That’s so weird; no one ever listens to me either. Wow. What a small world (exclamation point) LOL. We should be friends, what’s your number? Wanna hang out sometime? Are you on Myfriendsmakeoutspace-ster (fuckeachotherfuckeachotherfuckeachother) club? Me too. Wanna fuck? I’m just like you. Can I borrow your car? Live at your house? Eat your pets? Kill your parents? We’re so perfect together, (for each other)…opportunity is knocking do you hear it? BANGBANG. I wrote song about you, it has 25 different parts that don’t belong together. I scream and cry and there’s no melody whatsoever, you’ll love it, listen to it everyday…until all your friends like it too, then you’ll say it sucks and call me a sellout. Do you wanna get matching tattoos, have the same haircut, go steady, and just be friends so we can fuck everyone else who looks just like us, thinks like us, and feels like us too? Fuck, look at me, look at me, right here, right in my fucking eyes. Can you see it? No? Look closer then. How about now? No? Maybe it’s the atrocious lighting in here. Wait let me take a crooked picture with my hair in my face while I cut your name into my thigh. Do you see it now? You don’t see anything? Nothing at all? Are you sure? Positive? Weird, me either, small fucking world huh?
-F.T. WillZ 06
6° - ‘DON’T BELIEVE EVERYTHING YOU THIEVE.’
failing has become my mantra.
trying is way too hard to try.
when is lazy considered heroic?
if my number comes up, forget i mentioned any of this.
long live the revolutionaries.
lying in wait.
zig zag running away from their responsibilities.
7° - ‘WE ALL MUST DO SOMETHING THAT SCARES US TO DEATH…OTHERWISE WHAT THE FUCK IS THE POINT?’
these words are forced to fit my mood
im so sick of these mirrors
meticulously isolated yet always surrounded
i have nothing to say that wont get me into trouble
your frost is a punch to the gut
these days are covered in thorns
my tears fall short of escaping my eyes
but we try
and we fail
so we try some more
and together we shall see what time is made of
8° - ’(DAYDREAMING)‘
i am a sucker for when the heavens get so angry they attack the earth with a forceful downpour.
i lock myself inside. i can hear their pounding.
ah….and the lightning.
the sky cracks open. a celestial misstep, a momentary glimpse behind the forbidden curtain.
but they can’t touch me.
no matter how hard they try.
nothing gets in.
i am only a witness.
not involved, far removed. (daydreaming)
wishing for their worst, hoping for the best.
watching. soaking in the serenity through chaos.
constantly moving, all while standing still.
9° - ‘NEW TO A FEW’
my flu shot made me sick.
my blood work made me bleed.
my coffee made me tired.
my good looks made me a legend.
cough cough laugh riot cough cough laugh riot
who will prop you up when you are just too weak to stand?
who will mess up that face when you are just too pretty to leave this house?
i fear for those that we love…(because they are loved by us.)
i fear for those that we loathe…(because they are loathed by us.)
doing my worst. doing the most damage.
doing it first. inflicting the most damage.
praying you’ll leave. hoping you don’t.
trying to breath. hoping i won’t.
10° - ‘FROM MY HEAD TO MY MIDDLE FINGER, I REALLY THINK I LIKE YOU.’
i’m a little coffee pot short, stout, and burnt beyond recognition. sour to the taste and an and, and an and, and an and, and the end…
what a dark mess of additives we’ve become.
look through my caffeinated eyes my love. i can see the sun in all its ultra violet glory. it beckons me to put off a life filled with procrastination… at least until we have the time to waste.
but all i wanted for xmas was a purpose, or maybe to float 5 lines deep.
one time i felt like i belonged, but that’s neither here nor there.
i can ride for miles and miles and miles and sleep for only minutes. no control but not exactly a riot either.
(fuck, you’re such a riot.)
healing powers beyond my wildest dreams, come from behind those lips. i am the dinosaur proudly soaring towards extinction. so smoke ‘em if you got 'em kids… cause joe camel needs the pocket cash. or just read 'em and weep cause my royal flush comes with a love note. i bleed spades, you draw horses…… we all go fish for compliments.
may the lord strike down our penniless heroes,for if not we must take matters into our own hands. and everything will be new again when we open our eyes for the very first time.
so i’ll pick you up at 7 and we’ll have a real shitty time, but at least we’ll have a time. i’d love you to hate my guts if they weren’t already covered in these damned ulcers, ulcers only a mother could love.
so for now…peace, love, and misdemeanors. because i plan on being out of step for a while dear.
E um quote bônus pra arrancar algumas lágrimas:
"Love what you do and who you truly are. Be willing to die for it. If you are true to yourself, you can never go wrong. And remember when life gives you lemons, MCR says start a fucking band.