sometimes I̲ wish I could
go back to the time of late childhood & youth
not that that tI̲me was real good (overall)
but those days bY̲gone were some—
—what pleasura[—]ble years
less stress, bother, more fun
while last several years
have been, like a vengeance by a psychically mU̲cked up per-son
[for example: Jennifer Hills; Beatrix Kiddo; Arthur Fleck]
a mental nightmA̲re (kind of)
[adult life is burdensome & this world is terrible, for the most part]
it's been felt like being stuck inside a **** loop
not the tY̲pe some would choose
there's been some deli̲ght, but the blues
and other negatives have been piling up tO̲
a qua[ɑ]ntum that you'd find somewhat tough to consume
as far as p[ɑ]ossible, you try to rU̲n from the gloom
but, in the end, the dismals hunt ya
down, like you're Beatrix Kiddo fro[ʌ]m the
Tarantino's "Ki̲ll Bill" drama
targeted by the Deadly Viper hit crew
["The Deadly Viper Assassination Squad"]
[the 6th chapter of "**** Bill" called "Massacre at Two Pines"]
and the main thought that I̲'ve been pursued
by lately reminds me of
tragical vigila[ɛ]nte-turned guys, because
it says "nigh on nothing to lose" (nigh on nothing to lose)
besides, it seems li̲ke I have a sick psychopath inside me that
could use a punching bag, like a guy that has
to get prepped for a fighting match
that devil'd be satisfied to have
a mean au[ɑ]tocrat or another black
hat as a hostage to get the spleen dU̲mped on at
times when I'm ******, like sO̲meone af—
—ter having an alco binge; but, in fact
I'd be sO̲mewhat glad
if I̲ just smack or fling sO̲mething frac—
—turable so that the thing wI̲nds up smashed
it'd be nice to have a long-lasting bout of that
as far as possible, I satisfy this app—
—etite for demolition with vicious-sounding tracks
and rhyme-heavy lyrics with evil-minded crap
try to keep that sick **** sE̲rved with
so to speak, loco motifs (loco)
like rail vehicles; I've gotten a mI̲te sidetracked
["locomotives"; "like rail vehicles [,] I've gotten a mite sidetracked"]
let me rewind a tad
the thought that I've been pursued
by saying "nigh on nothing to lose"
as for saved-up money, I would
say there ain't much someone li̲ke me can do
with it; since we can't buy different realities to
live in, I've been thinking... (thinking) of buying a new
PC (for a long while)
[not "new" in the sense of "recently developed"]
as if I were some ****** tycoon
dealing with private military company bull—sh#t
["PC" stands for a number things, one of which is "personnel carrier"]
[hence "tycoon dealing with private military company bullsh#t"]
a PC, for games are something I'm used
to & that can make hI̲gh someone who's
got pro[ɑ]blems with mood (problems with mood)
neither drown so[ɑ]rrows in *****
nor get high on dO̲pe when I'm low
get lifted up by music listened to by me bO̲th when I'm home
and when I'm outdO̲O̲rs for a stroll
and as someone sometimes
spending some time on O̲U̲tdoor strolling, I'd note
one downright downside
regarding U̲rbanized zones
which is go[ɑ]ddamn mO̲torized road
vehicles: much noise evoken by those
started; that's so much provoking you hope
to find a grenade launcher with a whole lO̲t of
respective rounds to throw a fine show (hell yeah!)
what about drivers &, maybe, passengers present
inside? well, those are so-ca[ɔ]lled
"collateral da[ɛ]mage"
[just in case, I'm joking]
[I just hate motorized road transport for annoying noise it generates]
that's like a GTA-like game come
to life; music ain't one, but the main love
on this dark track to nO̲where I go (track to nowhere)
we're together till the moment I croak
(unless, of course, I̲ end up placed)
(into a mental asylum someday)
————————————————————————————————
since I've brO̲U̲[ɑ]ght up this subject (music)
what should've been dO̲ne's to place mo'
lines with cO̲[ɑ]ntent regarding
it inside this O̲ne; mid-paced so
called "dark clubbing" & dA̲rk synth
some slowed phonk, complextro
trap & hip-**̲[ɑ]p beats & ro[ɑ]ckish
electronic stuff from Zardo[ɑ]nic
or I can use some lines from a prior-writ pro[ɑ]ject
of mine; went from somewhat generic electro[ɑ]nic
sh#t, both ba[ɛ]ngers & melo[ɑ]dic
ones, to heavier & dA̲rk sh#t, however, I, regardless
still dig some graves, like a fellow with boneY̲A̲rd shifts
[Christian Mochizuki, better known as graves]
[the last 4 lines are from "a depressive rhymefall"]

whenever she's suspended
affixed
at the apex
of my mind'e eye,
she commands my attention

every breath
of hers
is the wind

tempests of life
unfurling
from her tender lips

'pon which
I run
a steady finger
tracing the grooves
of her supple
flesh
as she whispers
my name

her tongue flickers

tasting
the salt of my skin

fresh from the sea
where we first made love

where I carried her
from shore
to fresh water
to be cleansed
by healing waters
and leave the sea's poison
to the creatures
of the deep
the drunkards
of deepest sin

though time has passed
decades now, since then
I can still feel her
straddling my face
beneath
the running waters
silent
save her breaths
long & satisfied
every exhale
was purposeful

and where she lay
I remember
her legs
poised,
inviting

her expression, yearning

the world had passed away

gone, in the midst
of our rapture
and who
could have stopped us
anyway

I remember
my pride vanished
as hours
in my imagination
became minutes
in reality

I had never known
I could be
so weak

spent

how she took everything
I had to give

how she gave me
everything
I ever wanted

how no woman
has ever
given me one moment
as breathless
as a day spent
in love
from the pool
to the beach
to the shower

how no other woman
could trap me
in one room
for decades
and leave me there, waiting
with
no
regrets...

I dug a trench
to keep you close
growing the hedges
with rope and hose
I filled a moat
to keep you in
a buoy, no boat
if you tried to swim
I planted flowers
bushes, no tree
lest you could climb
and found you free
I paved a road
there you cut a path
far from the garden
away from my arms
now I’m building a bridge
across a sad sea
if you ever decide
to come back to me.

Here I ponder,
Inside my room.

Breath hitching,
As the clock strikes noon.

Warm feeling ,
Gone all too soon.

And now,
I am full of gloom.

For reality,
Lives here in my room.

It is safe,
Like a child in their womb.

Dare I shake it off?
This feeling of terror,
And doom?

For life is my mind,
Cheerful and kind,
And I shall not live in gloom.