My heads pounding
My necks twisted amuck
think I'mma stop giving a ****
Light up a blunt and do what I want -
woah wait -
ain't that the **** that got me
here in the first place?
Worst case I nervously pace
the halls for a day - two or a weekend
Blasting the weeknd
Entire enviroment reeking
shrieking -
Nah -
I'm better than that.
Can't latch onto the past.
That's the trash that got
us there at the start - instead
I prepare it in art
And share from the heart, with you.
And you.
And you and you and you.
Because why not?
It helps forget about that pinebox looming-
Thinking outside the winebox lucid -
I mean Windex, clean em out
And a win decks, stacks paper chips
You can't say this isn't some matrix blips
I am not losing ****
I am manuevering this beautiful thing
up past this ******* Nuva Ring
Cause that's life - you can get beat
or keep it on a leash - jeez
that's sexist. I don't know
where this became an accepted
comparison, its embarrassing
comparing them - to K9's
But we hear it through the grapevine
Turns of phrase we make fine.

old people die  nobody cries
but the rain  on the pinebox

Breathe.
  
Its almost that time when the moon turns
and all that you hold turns on you.
And you turn into what you were always meant to be.
  
Inhale.

All the stars turn in their grave under your feet.
The angles turn their gaze toward your purity.
And all that was once black has faded to green.
  
Exhale.

Fate is turning in your favor while the past burns
While your ancestors singing turns into screaming
And your pinebox is rotting in a bleak dark cemetery

Choke.

On the empty curses you have promised.
On silver bullets and silver rings
And as you take your last breath feel the warmth from the ocean breeze.