i am the liquid rage u consume to,
sweat me in the blood you,
drop me foxy 5 Me O,
collided with a chainsaw carving of a chainsaw,
carving gelatin figurines of wolverines,
stand back in my skull crusher's splinter twin,
and find mr. bones, i hefta make a plea to take this,
foxy out my brain, blow
rainbow holes connecting me to him,
lead me to the bedroom,
is all alone,
i am lebron james, and this is a conversation,
mr. bones agrees and now i know we gotta beat that trik,
white light, contaminated
strapped tight, go ahead and check my pockets,
for the souls i have devoured,
low in the hours,
face my wrists, the memory,
wont come to me.
no king, at a door
i am sofa king high,
or am i, being had again,
who is this bitch in here,
jusify the why am in cohootz with,
international, the nationals slow melt from nothing,
elemental magic Lords of deceivers,
stitched out from their flesh,
embryonic anti sources,
like roaches in day light,
how am i the chosen one,
i have no inspiriation,
money motivated so i guess i have to keep MY money rhymes,
and nobody wants to hear em dun,
sincerely, they aren't any fun,
do u have ur gun,
i have mine, and the crime,
is on live, tube on 5,
boy aged 9, has just died,
oh why lord why,
but its six,
a bag of six,
subsized by uncle sam.
We all have demons
mine just so happen to have
An eye watches me
floating a little way from my face.
I can feel something
living in my neck,
and it curls around my spine,
THE EYES THAT LIVE IN MY SCALP blink,
they blink together to some unknown metronome.
I try to ignore THE HANDS that grab at my head and shoulders,
gripping the sides of my head,
pressing into my temples.
My demons loom over me and BREATHE,
I tremble in fear of the man who travels through dreams
and wonder how much HE KNOWS
and wonder if HE CAN SEE ME now
and is he GOD or DEVIL?
for now he is my DEMON
and on the back of my neck
I feel his EYES.
It is 5:16 am and I’m sitting, smoking a cigarette out my window.
I’ve barely slept in days,
Everything around me is quiet and serene, not a single soul awake,
The only sound is the wind rustling the leaves
But my brain is on fire.
I don’t know if it’s from the sleeplessness or the million thoughts all at once swirling around attacking my mind.
But it hurts. A searing pounding in my head.
I want to do something fun
I want to do something reckless
I want to do something dangerous
I want to do something that’ll send adrenaline racing through my body just so I can feel alive.
I want to run away
Go on a bender
Party for weeks
Fill my body with drugs
I want to risk my life
Feel blood dripping down my skin
I want to do anything to feel my own morality.
This is why at 13 I was binge drinking every day and popping pills,
The substances were enough to keep the voices quiet for a little while.
But tonight I stay at my window,
Chain smoke another 4 cigarettes,
Thinking of all the juvenile things I could be doing.
This is what mania is like for me.
There’s little warning, just an itch under my skin of feeling stuck, or unreasonably bored.
When it hits it’s not like a ton of bricks,
There’s no immediate realization I’m manic,
It feels more like neon shadows slithering towards me,
scratching and seeping themselves into my body
Whispering, but still screaming, directly to the source,
Invading my peace,
Goddammit just let me fucking sleep.
Vitiate the hull of mutton
Taste the stringy woman lungs
Suffocating in coiling scaly black tar demon opium smoke
The voluptuous carpentry is anxiously hyperventilating
Your throat is baby xylophone
You teeth are fuzzy rabbits
Their fur is thick and itchy upon your tongue
The slide of octopus silk is massaging the nerves to pointy slumber
Deep in the cauldron the baleen gates are straw and rapidly parting
For some reason they won’t swim up
You taste salt’s bite
Emerge from the sea before you drown
You silly fool
Pilgrims are waging the mass death
Great lynches mandated by God
Wailing with stinking dying young
Having a picnic at the gallows
Whiskey shivers alive
Boiling and screaming in tongues
Strobing from inhuman pain to morphine stupor’s loving numb
Your rapist is a pastor
Your child is the angel that keeps you from returning home to rosy Eden
Your families’ legs are sewn in a knot
They are frantically dancing the reel of the beheaded roach
Untie their rainbow thighs
To pay penance for your grave disobedience
Apologize to your hardworking father
He’s doing the best he can
Forgive your ungrateful daughter
Pam is crying
Towels are crying
Soap is laughing
You are mouse and you are crumb
Yellow red striped glaucous cat
The fawn’s neck pulsing thick with squirming lump of rat
This is all occurring
In the wan lakes of your lady eyes
Seventy six have you
The paper walls are breathing in melodic unison with
You are the Christian
Frantic running from the lion’s jaws
You are bored and waiting for the Greek tragedy
You are Hindu
Attempting to dodge Britain’s guns
You mercilessly ram the bayonet into his muddy wrinkly face
You see the assassin firing
See the bullets pierce
Yet all you feel is your index finger hooking the smooth trigger
And the rough handle of the handgun
The black eared checkered cat
Hissing with xiphoid lizard teeth
Not pretty enough to support your drug religion
Hungers for smiling child
Hungers for drowning fear
Glazed on tattered wings of shredded feathers
The hot slaughtered meat
Escape the toilet’s screaming
The sink bedpan is overflowing with bleeding
Air is acid breakfast scented cereal urine
This film is bad it’s bad
A high pitched eerie screeching
Pitch shifted hymns echoing in Westminster
Your sister the spinster of my festering whisker!
Sacrifice your schedule to the great lord Day Plan
Burn the calendar
Burn the crying trees and their hair accessories
Tiny arms are sprouting from your fingers with their own tiny hands
Tiny arms from their fingers are growling with gushing stumps
A body within a body’s body
You are the human macrophage
Be a cannibal when you grow up
You realize your son isn’t yours
He’s the bastard of your rival pack
Become Cronos with radiant mane and the hairs of the velvet sun
Across the wood frame mirror
You see me smear
The graffiti crooked and huge black words
God is great
Get the pants
Radio static and stale cigarettes.
A little too much wine and constant regret.
My head hurts,
they say that's because I'm ill.
I think it's because I mixed alcohol with pills.
They're fading away now
I smell of depression and antiperspirant.
One more bottle and they might think I'm elegant.
Lonely is a hollow feeling like the bottom of this bottle
Lonely is £7.10p
And I've got £220 to spend
I forgot what it's like to talk with my mouth open
Because I normally talk in my head.
Hallucinations aren't going to put a man in my bed.
The good in me feels the illness seeping in...
They're Crawling Under MY SKIN!
My eyes are straining to see the beauty in my soul.
Always running away has taken it's toll.
I have nothing to be scared of...
Maybe that's the worst part.
These hallucinations drive everyone away while they tear me apart.