Oh, poor me,
I had a girl break my heart.
Morale of the story,
Addicted from the start.
I'm not broken,
I tattooed the cracks.
Purposely hoping,
For my drug back.
Texting, delaying,
With sad face emojis.
Now they're all saying,
God, you're emo, jeez.
I cry, cut, and so on.
Mentally disturbed.
Cry again and throw on,
A slowed reverb.
Paul Anka, Juice Wrld.
Not trying to forget,
That once a girl,
Lifted me from the ****.
I was so deep, stuck in,
A lanky creep, *******,
A pretty *****, nothing,
I wanted more, something,
Got to me.
Affection,
******.
Perplexing,
Ideology.
Flexing,
Not ******,
But her ****** economy.
Honestly,
All she was, was a drug.
No understanding or acceptance.
I wanted a hug,
And so much more.
She wanted a beating.
It makes more sense,
Why she went out cheating.
**** lust and ***,
And pornographic scenes.
Nah, just **** my ex,
I'll see you in my dreams.

I bathe in oil,
And lit a match,
To practice for hell.
I cut my eyes,
And saw the truth,
When I removed myself.
I turned a new leaf,
But still I perceive,
The same chlorophyll.
I put down the blade,
But the wind,
Still turns the mill.
I chose to be,
And still I choose,
Whenever I forget.
Opening up,
To reality,
When all terms are met.
Again I bathe,
This time in salt,
To purify a piece.
The one as whole,
The whole as one,
Until all thoughts cease.

There was a man that sang in rhyme,
Every time he found a dime,
But by the time that he found nine,
He’d forget how to rhyme,
Then go back in time to rhyme,
Until he found another nine.

I need escape,
I need release,
I need to tame this inner beast,
That’s full of depression,
Full of lust,
It makes me want to ******* cuss,
Use words of hate,
Instead of love,
Because I’ll never be able to rise above,
My crippling anxiety,
So I’ll writhe in fear,
Cause everything is falling apart, my dear,
But we will be fine,
Just you and I,
Forever and always,
Until we die.

The F-Line,
Made a Bee-Line,
For my behind,
And the moment,
It hit my spine,
Was the moment,
I was kind of,
Fearful,
That I would die,
And not live,
To tell the tale,
And not give
Another fable,
Ever again,
Whether poem or book,
Because the F-Line,
Made a Bee-Line,
And my life,
It took.

I smell like ****,
After two days without a shower,
Here I sit,
With my boredom like a tower,
Towering above me,
No matter what the setting,
I wish I was clean,
I should clean my bedding,
I should mow the lawn,
I should wack the weeds,
I think I’ve lost my brawn,
Now I’ve come to perceive,
The outer problems,
With the inner,
If I clean up,
I’ll be a winner,
I’ll feel good,
I’ll eat again,
All that food,
Spilling over my chin,
Cause it’s been too long,
And I’m eating too fast,
I know this is wrong,
But I can make it last,
By telling them it’s religious,
And I have to go a week,
And then a week more,
But my mom is superstitious,
I have to clean up one side,
To get the other side,
All cleaned up,
So I can continue this ride,
This roller coaster,
Taking me through life,
But there’s technical difficulties,
Halting me at strife,
I wanna get past it,
So I called the engineer,
But I fear,
I can’t fix this,
And I’ll never clear,
Life successfully,
I know demise is near,
But hopefully,
I’ll get help from my peers.

The 168,
Departed late,
A character trait,
Of public transit,
So here I sit,
On this black bench,
In the hot hot sun,
The bus threw a wrench,
Into my fun,
The longer I wait,
The more I think,
The bus won’t come,
Within the next blink,
This is my life,
Without a car,
Without a wife,
I’m going far,
With my girlfriend,
After I mend,
Our broken understandings,
And premarital demandings,
Now the bus is here,
And I bust a rhyme,
And I bus around,
From time to time,
I have to go,
But I’ll be back,
Don’t do drugs kids,
Stay away from crack.