clapped in the all-black fit under the artificial light, skin hidden so i can’t feel shit.
chapped lips got me licking after every verb, high thoughts got me thinking disturbed.
chin on the curb when i fell on my face, metallic taste in between the gaps of my teeth.
dapped the homies and I faded into the solace of my bed, my head loud, i need rest.
dream-girl has her chest as my personal head rest, god bless me in reality please.
dead men sit silently in my mind, grind my thoughts to a stop and let me breathe.
crows and hoes pick at my skin, identify the worse of me and eat at it until i feel death.
rambling my preamble, when will the shit i write make sense in another voice.
the dice in my cup, call mama, should i take the gamble and add spice to this life.
knots in my throat add to the preexisting choke, time to reinvent a whole person.
ghostly shadows sat in the peripheral and beckon me towards the hell in which i belong.
longing for the same person with a different fate, watch my watch and they been late.
i skipped it today sorry, i’ll write a new note tomorrow so stop calling my phone.
drunk-tripping down the shit path i chose, lose my number but i’ll never block.
guns cocked and blades sharp, i’ll let you know when because i can’t be alone.
dipped again, here’s a finger as an apology, my meds went down with a cough.
sat on the couch waiting for them to kick in and you yelled at me the whole time.
you stole my limelight and told me i only needed you and not those damn pills.
time stuck twelve and effects kicked in, but you were gone from the environment.
i felt drowsy and woke up in bed with you standing there at the base of the footboard.
holes of hell were opening around and your horns and tail were all there to see.
the devil\'s creatures were the main feature of the room, but you all aren\'t real.
just figments of mind that have not healed, peel you away from my bedroom.
stop asking me to join you in the depths of your world that lies below.
the cold war we fight has been heating up for too long, dismantle your weapons.
scrawled writings on papers deciding my death have been piled on the wooden desk.
please take them with you when you crawl back in hell and burn the scripture.
you sat in my mind, for so long, discussing my pain so take our picture when you leave.
dry swallowing the lexapro and i see the release of me in your bitter eyes