Wasting my life.
Cause my time is so precious, ha!
Walking through my room,
the stench actually slows progress.
You feel it on your skin,
it thickens the air, increases drag.
They squirm on the floor.
I wipe them off my hands and stomach.
They might have had dreams, aspirations.
How ridiculous they’re just ejaculations.
I posses a value for life. But my children here.
I don’t feel anything for them, or without them.
Time fucks by.
Instinct, greed and something else win again.
This addiction doesn’t leave track marks,
dirty spoons, or empty lighters.
But it does leave a stench, and little time.
It’s a bong I can’t get rid of. Literally.
It’s attached to me, I use it everyday in one way.
But fuck it.
Whoops, phrasing...
I mean screw it, school is in like 6 hours.
I feel relieved in one way. Now I have it onboard.
A nice big hit, of dopamine. Instantly.