XI • VI • MMXXIV

︻デ┳═ー  

blood drips.
i can feel it on my fingertips,
i can taste it on your lips.

how did we get here?
i am drowning in fear.
there's no escape plan near.

they keep taking.
a nightmare waking.
we keep breaking.

the air is thickening,
gunshots quickening,
this is all so sickening.

blood pools.
genocide fuels.
american jewels.

F*ck this **** I'm out

I have no perspective, I
bring nothing new.
I absorb everything, I
am pressed to consume.

I consume. They press me,
to consume me, to imbibe,
to savor the flavor of
the fruits to their labor.

I'm impressed you haven't
yet guessed my game correctly.
(. . .rebranding. . .)
I'm impressed you haven't
yet guessed my game.

If I'm alive, then we're ******.
If I die, then you're ******.

These days, the sun sleeps against
a wistful twisting of violet blue.
Pretention? Brake pad. You
told me that
my cadence is lyrical,
so, which is it, Mister?

I know myself to hell.
The mistake I keep making
is letting another tell
me they know me
just as well.

I mean, maybe.
I mean, maybe.

-- though, the more often you say it,
I can't help but think that the odds
come up in your favor ever less.

I know myself to hell.
The mistake I keep making
is letting another tell
me they know me
just as well.