Time is a cool liquid that flows and resonates through my being
And as I sit here slaving away day by day on man made devices based on prehistoric theories, I feel the angels of death ripping my time out from underneath my feet.
I maybe young but I continue to fret about the bullets that ring in my head and the psychotics that numb my brain into pliable putty.
They try to mold me to fit the social standard and I continue to fight back with the will of a bull and the guilt of a sinner.
I can not continue to castrate my inner self even though it is that of the flames of hell which will never accept me.
I can not continue to wish for the pure white of the wings angels and the dazzling halos of the pure, neither, because I am stuck in my impending cycle of depression and gloom.
Miss Mary Jane only makes me loopy and ***** me up immensely while the nicotine never sedates the destructive curiosity.
I am a slave to my mind and to the pain that bleeds from the bruises and cuts.
I am a slave to the human heart which controls every reenactment of the mistakes my mother bled to hide me from
And for this I cry and plead the words
"I'm sorry!"
But this is never enough.
I will never be enough.
For I am a hopeless little teenage freak that will never learn.
And for this I am truly sorry.