I bleed out stars from my eyes,
sniff out noble gases.
I don't do physics but gravity seems heavy
though I like gravy but I dish out the ketchup
tuna swahili sashimi, to me, I rhyme
with this chyme as you read this; I waste your time.
Oh how I wish I had more time, I'm going down
Six feet under in a few months.
A funeral with thunder and rain, sobbing and pain, a cursed chain message- pass this on as I pass on or else get hexed, but last time I checked those don't work, like she and I, we didn't work out
that's why we're fat, sad, dying, and alone.
Rich with perfume and makeup- is how I imagine a breakup,
I need the facade of contempt shooting out from your lips as you bury me deeper and farther away from the earth that failed to keep us grounded together, supposedly forever.
inner thoughts but no inner peace
