i have done it again
once a day,
lean
a sort of walking miracle, my skin,
look at my wrist, about ten
my *******
a paperweight
my body clothed in supreme
and bape
peel off the layers of autotune
do i terrify?
or do the rooftops i jump from come back to haunt me?
the wide nose, the pink and blonde
the dilated eyes
all vanish within a recording session
soon, soon the skin
the thots, the tricks
they will be at home on me
and i, a frowning man
only sixteen
and like the cat, i have nine times to live
this is my last leg,
what trash
what lies we tell
with a million filaments of light
the xanax-crushing crowd
stops for one ******* second
and looks down at the stage
the beat starts, my mouth is powder dry
ladies and gentleman
these are my tattoos,
my war paint,
i may be skin and bones
nevertheless, i am far from who i once was
the first time i drank lean, i was ten
my brother dared me
the second time i meant it,
some way to escape
and become liquid
over beats
when i drank too much, they had to call and call
and wash the ***** off me like bloodthirsty leeches
singing/rapping/living
is an art
and like everything else, i do it way too well
i do it so it feels like midnight
i do it so it feels so real
i guess you could say i’m dope
it’s easy enough to loose hope
it’s easy enough to go crazy waiting for fame
but fame comes, and it plays games
come back with me,
to the same place, the same face,
the same dreaming eyes of a high woman
an amused shout,
get out of here, eskeetit
but there is always a change
for the touching of my hair, there is a change
inside, for the eying of my new gucci sneakers
there is a change inside, that rarely goes outside
and there is a change, a really big change
for any pill or drink
or drug
or a strip of fur or silk that i wear with pride
so, so my child, unborn within a groupie
so, my enemy behind a mic or a show curtain
i am your high
i am everything you ever wanted
the pure silver bullet
that melts with no bang or pop
i turn and burn
do not forget, mama’s still concerned
and and
you push and pull
xannies and perkies, there nothing there
a red stripe
across a wrist with
a broken whiskey bottle.
my mother, my father
remember?
remember?
out of the bitter smoke
i rise with rainbow hair
and i devour pills like air
A riff on Sylvia Plath's poem, Lady Lazarus.