And you will crawl,
on broken glass, should I ask.
But what does that say?
Is bleeding really how you get your way?

Maybe I'm missing something here
But there ain't all that much to see
So I doubt it.

Hands clawing my throat,
Though there ain't no lies.
Just apathy, dopamine,
and a lack of oxytocin.

We're living circular cycles,
**** near cyclical;
But we're living in a time
That's either linear or spiral.

I know a thing or two about what's eating me,
But I'm a coward, a ******* and a weak poet.
Earn a living with my words, though,
So I'll take what I can get.

I haven't bit the hand that feeds often enough,
Come on baby, you know they like it rough,
They've been ******* us, sure enough.

Now problem number two,
I'll let you doubt which is which,
Had to give you the slip,
Then you pull me right back in.

Flip again and now I'm teleporting in,
Every ******* drop of your roller coaster eyes;
They're eating me alive,
And I'd surmise,
That my stomach can only hold on so long
Before it bursts and I'm hurling up butterflies
Into yellow skies,
My demise was written on your hips.