"my whole life hand been one cliche country unfinished line after line"

"my stupid lusts"

it feels so lonely, like i'm doing something i ain't supposed to
my stupid lusts go places i didn't guide them
and i smoke cigarettes as fast as i can light them
your face flashes through my mind  and i apologize to the memory of you
but there ain't no god in the sky, and there ain't no one left to answer the question of why

do i wish myself to return to six am busstops?
begging fro a reprieve from every sort of sordid detail?
a step backwards or a step forwards into children and sitting still
let me chew my fingernails, just this once
i'll chew them until they're bloody, and i'll read our fortunes in the remains

through every sort of collapse, i know you asked
all of the right questions, and found me frail
but i told you i was askew the first time you came knocking
if you're ever not here, the only comfort i have won't be in words
but i won't borrow your love, the only way i'll accept it is if it's for keeps

frame the clock, sour days, it slows
i'm in your taillights in my bad dreams but, woman there are so many of you
why is it i can only find comfort in one?
why  must i dare myself forward?
why must i risk every, every single thing?

There is some K. in here, probably other people as well. I was listening to a Josh T. Pearson song that is like this eleven minute vomit of words and sadness. I think I was going with something similiar here, and it's the first successful non-sonnet I've written in a while.