Does it burden you to say
that you can barely measure the length of your tongue?

I wasn't here out of my own volition.
We're just literally bound by blood.

So...

Here's your free pass.
You can frolic all you'd like.
For the six quintillionth time,
Here's your pass.

It's not like most people reap what is sown.

At least I have my sanctum residing here.

I don't know what I'd do if you stepped inside.

Quit acting like
the centuries afterward will praise you.
right now you held up a clerk with a pocket knife
And will be another useless cog in the system.

That's if your lucky.
If you outrun the five-oh
and brushed up on your parkour enough to jump 10 feet to the next building roof.

That's if the shingles don't crumble under you once your weight impacts the roof.

That's if your bandana doesn't fall off and the five-oh identifies you because you and your dad were pulled over by them yesterday because he was speeding.

That's if your significant other isn't dumped by you because you know she's ******* that Black guy for his money and clothes.

That's if you can go through another semester scraping by.

That's if your not reported for bullying because you made fun of the kid who didn't wear name brand clothes but looked like a rich Jew anyway.

That's if your trap EP gets plenty of playbacks on Soundcloud. In reality it's just you moaning into the great void as it is drenched in auto-tune.

(ahh yaaaah yuhh yuh yuh yuh yuuuu yuuu tuuu get the strap oooOooOOoO)

That's if your codeine doesn't run out and you go into brain-damaging withdrawal.

That's if you don't engrave your fist into someone's skull because he noticed you limping to class after that cramp you had.

That's if you just seek affection from yourself when this *****-*** world ***** itself as you are caught in it's way.

The oxygen has run out of the town.
All the dogs have left the pound.

And all I see is black.
The patients have been healed.
The dogs have been adopted.
And all I see is black.

I turned on the radio.
Black radiated from the speakers.

That's all I hear and see and I don't acknowledge it.


Say, why don't you hop on the expressway of the mind?
Just take the exit numbered infinity.

Your soul will be lifted again.
Nothing more is sacred at all.
There's nothing more do to than save face.
After acting for so long, you believe that something's real.

We know that morality is just a fantasy.
We know that displeasure and misery is still a sensation, so we pretend that morality exists.
We pretend, safe in the knowledge that we never wanted morality to be a fairytale.

Black won't recede,
It's ascended to a self-declared deity.
So we swim away from the evening tide.

Thank goodness that everything has a timer , so nothing is permanent.

Brain in the freeway.
Synaptic processes.
Love and care.
Swindles and cheapskates.
A quick review of the perception of your existence.

And....
here comes the cadence as the chant of defeat comes again.

Regurgitate it.
Regurgitate your sentiment.
They will fall on deaf ears.
Then you will bawl, asking "why?"
You can't handle authenticity.
You get no forgiveness.
You refused to accept it.
These words will be lost among the many files of the Internet:

I came for your help.
You denied it.

Whenever I'm vulnerable,
I always steer clear of you.
You will regurgitate your lies.

I opened up to you.
You just brushed it off.

You ask why I never changed.
It's because know I'm correct.

Maturity couldn't even fix things.
You kept your shitstorm going.
When I felt your vileness,
I lashed out.

You never expected this, because you think I have no feelings.
Whine all you like.
Pretend your the hero.
Put on the cape.
Nobody shall hear me writhe in pain.
Nobody shall see the tears.
And I'm stuck ranting about this on the Internet, because that's what it has come to.
Nobody shall hear me.
My thoughts as an individual will apparently forever be hidden in a shroud of lies and smoke and mirrors.

So my sentiment is:
Your sense of honor is a fallacy.
I hope the wheels of fate turn against you.

Thicker beard.
Consistent and stringent hygiene habits.
Less swearing, more silence.
Politically informed.

More attentive while driving.
Relocated out of that seaside town where people only feuded.
Avoids familiar faces, except for those that have been held close.
At least the beach is still pristine.

Some miles away, a man believes he deserves everything there ever was.
Indefinite lay-offs for current federal employees.
All military members on leave called back to base.

A box is somewhere.
It has food for one day,
Two passports,
And a pistol.
It sits idly by the door.