The heaviness on my chest, the strangled breaths stinking of wafting toxicity, the bloodstains on my hands from a ****. My mind is whirling, and I wonder if this is it if this is insanity distorted past reality if I am truly lost in this labyrinth of twisted smiles and white lies if I have finally finally turned myself into a monster.
i used to wake up with sore eyes and black bruises i've never seen before i'd look for long cigarette butts half full beers and forgotten liquor drinks i had two cow licks that stuck up like horns i had thick cigarette smoke like peanut butter and puddles in the kitchen that leaked from the trash bags into the rug i'd paste cardboard boxes and ripped up comic books together with my drawings in permanent marker and scribbled edges of ballpoint pen and colored pencil coupled with writings of philosophic schizophrenic machine gun word salad that ran off the page and onto the walls i had slippers i'd worn out months ago and shirts i washed in the shower with dish soap i had flies that flew around in circles until they got smacked or fell dead i'd climb up on the roof in the afternoon throw bottles in the street and ******* the side i welcomed the dirt the bloodstains and the deep cough i loved it but mostly hated it and i'll never forget it
Unfrozen, surviving in miles of silent wasteland Somehow risen from cold to my feet, but not breathing Am I flawless that I drift so lightly with a Western wind? Or so flawed that I don't admit I'm desperate for coming home The final night with my elbows on the throne Laughing over longing after end to the infinite. Beheld well with the highest intention to flatter you Maybe I'll die in laughter when you realize I invite you to bitterness, brittleness to the shattering for which I'll want you close Because with another's bloodstains I can live alone Using what I've siphoned to make my ill-advised scratches on tablets on tabletops.