starving for air
in this cloudy room
gasping for life
with no intention
of leaving any time soon
another day
another f-cking dollar
I hope one day
instead of getting out of bed
I set fire to my sheets instead
then fall back asleep
with the courage
to put a bag over my head
I am only here because of my parents
two kids with nothing better to do
than to smoke dope and make a kid
in the backseat of the car my father
would eventually die in
if there is a point to all of this
someone please tell me
I am running out of theories
the one who stepped in after him
is about to step out
and I have to deal with the fact
that when he does talk
my name comes out of his mouth
and if he goes before I see him
it will be just another hole I live with
another reason to doubt
to seek freedom through love
but the days pass slow
we used to be ants
and now we are slugs
who has time to work for love
when money exists?
and who has the energy to lift a fist
in an effort to fight against
what seems to protects us
providing laws and entertainment
this is mental containment
and it is time to face it
not embrace it