I should move to a brand new city
And teach myself how to die.
Just like Mistki sang
I'm here again.
I've been so many people in so many places I'm tired to ressurect.
The motion and the stumbles
Have gotten me tired.
And now I sit in bed or in the backyard.
Listening to my head or my mom mar.
Me, no-one else.
Telling me how she'll let me know what you can sense,
From your first sniff.
A toothpick and a q-tip and she burns it.
Brings it close to my nostril and tells me to snort it.
And oh is it hurting.
My ear my brain my sinuses begging.
She says ******* is 5 times the feeling
And Im so concerned, I only half confessed to **** why is she showing this to me?
Ah it's another trap I see.
I ask where did she get it?
How would you know mommy?
Have you done it?
Tell me I'll keep it a secret I promise.
"no"
I've had friends die from it.
Oh it's that type of trap, it was anticipative.
Another warning turned life story
Another life story incomplete because I'm not deserving.
Another life another city.
She does it to me, and I become it.
This poem was supposed to be about dissapearing not my lineage.
Now it's both.
A declaration that I won't continue it.
I promise.