the problem is the loneliness
a weak little bitch who is lugubrious
irredeemable piece of shit
vomit on his chin from the pills and the liquor
the boy is fucked up off the goop because he can’t function otherwise
can’t get out of bed, go to work, or make a friend
only way he can is with the goop up in his head
another worthless waste of space
somebody help him kill himself
because the boy is so lost, confused, and scared
he can’t move and yet he tumbles further into the abyss
violently thrashing mind hidden by sullen countenance
can’t reach out because his mental won’t allow it
he stands in the flames as God laughs at the boy
denies His boy death so he can savor the mental torture
torchlight identifies the scarified remains
nothing needs to be explained
just the bullet in his brain
he’s fucking dying and the boy does nothing
he’s fucking crying ‘cause the boy wants something
his vision of the world is clouded up by himself
he stands and is overtaken by his own shadow
he can’t see anymore
his suffering cannot be understood
it isn’t meant to be understood only ended
by the hand that is forced to feel it
“You know, ma, I love ya. I love you, too, dad. It doesn’t have anything to do with that. Yeah, I love my friends too. It has nothing to do with them. It’s just over. I’m done. I have been awake for as long as I can and I’d like to sleep eternally. It’s nothing personal.”
You know what, playa, we ‘bout to goop up. You on it, mane?
You know you can slang mad pussy when you chill ya nerves with that ol’ dex, mane.
You become that real thug you always shoulda been, mane,
All you gotta do is schlurp some of that goop and you’ll be on it, lil mane.
behold my suffering
look at the scars on my arm
peek inside to see the emptiness
a life pained by growing stress
to find a way out that isn’t death
look upon my broken neck
marvel at my lovely purple necklace
push the softened flesh and watch my black blood froth forth
gaze at my crumpled skull
look through the window in the back
made by buckshot blasts
I struggled hard, but didn’t last
my face frozen in a fell grin
whose splayed skin and mangled teeth could easily fit a gun between
two lips lightly hanging from what’s left of my skull