This is the Pen My Only Friend the Pen

I wrote this in the midst of a well earned hangover… 
​Good golly greatness/ oh goodness gracious/ whiners, grape pits/ n holy ape shits/ bananas as he paces/ his brain erases/ his good graces/ with thoughts of oasis/ not roundin bases/ but winnin races/ people fold, he’s droppin aces/ he’s left no traces/ of his masked faces/ no being basic/ just to make it/ just to fake it/ breakin the mold n vases/ with words so invasive/ that he never replaces/ takin shots for his disgraces/ n even love drunk he never chases/ filling his voids n spaces/ he writes pictures then retraces/ can’t feel it, and wonders where the bass is/ his life needs a facelift/ no it needs a pace shift/ he can barely take it/ he can barely taste it/ everyone feels so tasteless/ words supported by no braces/ and in no basis/ truth is his nooses he places on his own laces/ he sees it and embraces/ no he needs no lasek/ he’s on first name basis/ with people from a spaceship/ cuz reality, where’d he take n place it? fuck friendship bracelets/ he came ta break shit/ mostly fake shit/ n he can’t be racist/ cuz he sees them faceless/ but mostly faithless/ shallow and oh so weightless/ lines on a wait list/ being deep is wasted/ and being deep is waisted/ copy pasted, copy pasted/ n yeah he gets a little cocky wasted/ then dislikes how his morning coffee tasted/ he writes, rages, n never embraces stasis/ he has ages of pages that his mind awfully often erases/ and then in the end a pen is the only affection or friend he never replaces.