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Jan 2018
I wake up every morning at 3pm,
Brush my teeth eventually,
Get dressed most days, but mostly it’s only a probably,
Shower myself like a good boy,
Clean boy, wash away the ugly,
Turn my tv onto white noise,
Drink down the sorrow and,
***** the bad thoughts into piles of poetry,
Finally sit down at my dinner table at 5pm for breakfast,
I pour myself a bowl of Rice Krispies, refuse to eat it, I’m starving,
I’m all snap and crackle but no pop,
I’m all talk but no bite,
My head’s been telling me to **** myself a lot lately and y’know what, I just might

Put some pants on, my favorite t shirt,
Black on black, I’m not a priest, it’s only a uniform,
Yet I treat myself like God,
Forgiving everyone and everything until apologizing becomes null and when I don’t have any sympathy left I steal daddy’s cigarettes, aim for the palm and burn holes,
A deadbeat Jesus, happiest at my dirtiest and insufferable at my cleanest

This loneliness will crucify me and I’ll let it,
Let it breathe and become home,
I’m writing this with sweat and blood and when I’m done it’ll hurt so bad, it’ll probably feel like I’ve broken a couple bones

I don’t remember when these words started to feel like guns but if I don’t use this sadness as ammunition then I’m going to die cold and alone

We are born inside of war and don’t question it until we die and when we die we realize if not for sadness, there’d be no point in being alive

Barrel to the sky,
Shoot it until it cries,
And let it bleed until it dries,
And when it dries,

Rip it back open, you’re gonna need it,

It’s gonna be a long night
Richie Vincent
Written by
Richie Vincent  21/M/Dayton, OH
(21/M/Dayton, OH)   
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