Dropping Rent
Your too late. Im drowning myself in the closest room to your speech. 6 minutes to a head rush and suffocation fame. Color me black and kill the lights. Here comes the final together. Deep down i know I'm about to die. And i still can fake a smile to return myself the favor of artificial happiness and organized confusion. My devotion that grew like a tree is now rotting like a fungus in me. I've soured. Last time i thought i knew you...I get you loved me...just a love; you would have for garbage. Now im a beautiful tsunami thanks to you...I'm completely toxic. I know all the breath i waste on you, is getting me nowhere but closer to asphyxia. But i'll sip and savor every second of my difficulty. It's crucial how these thoughts and explainations grasp me like a constrictor. And with this tight hold; I can scream up a pint of bile and laugh at how broken i am. Slightly hung in the center of spine, is a hook and plan...one that is already set up telling me how to stop my body clock from ticking...years ago it was just a matter of time. Now it's just a matter of thoughts that rape the only innocence i have left. With every morning that grows a new sunrise; it doesnt get me up. I'd rather just lay the day into night. Not bother anything or touch anyone in anyway. I'd rather close my eyes with the window shade shut to block out the pain. I can only hope that others are enjoying their life. Maybe that could brighten my day...but it never has and never will. I like the dark to surround me in my moods...happy or sad i still getting something out of out. Cliche or not days arent worth listening to anymore. Fast asleep i find my only current escape and thats funny in a way. As days go longer so does my yearning for a scream that will rupture a vein in my throat and help me choke up a feel of my own controlled familiar. I'm not listening anymore to the shit half the world puts together to feel better about their life or the sound of another person ripping tendons for a waking kick in the ribs to reality. My lights out, still never really asleep...all i see is the trashy remains everyone has picked through in my life for me being a use to them.
If your heart is b e a t i n g ; karma doesnt have a good enough gun.
I'm sick of the shelter people put me in; to have me not hurt. either way i'll still have this pain. Its my fault i did the awful things i have done in my short life so far. I'm not afraid so dont be afraid for me or pity me. I'll just dream on inside. I wait along a line of destruction; I'm welcomed everyday. This is the world we live.
Welcome to the w o r l d.
Every night for years, i lay awake. Thinking about the cloud that lives above my head. And how much i have put others through, or what nothing i have accomplished. But recently i have felt and meaned it so much. It feels like my brain is at the end of everything in wits and gains of decomposition of the form of how i call this exsistance. Shit seems to always get worse or hit the fan even more. But recently, i have realized that i need to tell the ones around in my life how much they need to know that i appreciate and love them dearly. Since i started heavy d r u g s in my preteen years i still have that little boy innocence and sensitivity..which always fucks me at teh end of every day. Nothing i can say, scribble down, or see there doesnt seem to be much more than this. Thats why i probablly have a problem with respecting myself. I never developed that like many people older than me. This makes them wiser and more able to articulate and be proud of who they are. But I feel i'll always be that one that is E M O writing about how my life barely seems to exsist. Or being over promiscuous to feel any better.
But one thing is certain;
Everyday there seems to be something new; that itches me in my wounds; and salts them to a point that binds and blinds me from the world that passes me by so fast. Today i dont want to rest in peace or rest in life like this. Suicide isnt in the back of my head today...i wont swoop that low for myself. I deserve just a better life. Maybe everything looks okay and easy to live with but that dfoesnt take away all the pain and agony I've grown up into. Youth with gun's, molestation, drug addiction, broken hearts, fights, institutions, eating problems, self-mutilation, and failing. I cant tell you i saw all this coming, but even when i was reaching out just to be hugged...i either got a back or something that wasnt worth anytime. I crossed lines, and theres no turning back to the events i dug up. We are who we are...but I almost wish i wasnt who i am today. If i could I'd change the past and maybe i'd have a better future or present that i lead in now. I'd almost rather forget who i am and start completely over. There's so much pain behind these eyes and over time all it does is E X C E L . Last time, i thought this was yesterday. Its a concept that is always in the back of my mind. Whatever it is, i cant change things now...so I wont be a fucken pussy like Mike!
M I K E
You deserve much better than what you fucken did. Just to tell the world and reflect what you were feeling doesnt make it right. I dont give a shit if you were physically and sexually abused, drug addicted, had mental issues or etc. You deserved to live of all people in my life. I R E G R E T that i didnt take any action and get you the help you needed. You couldnt handle life on your own, and thats fine just to let you know. We could've gotten things better. You didnt need to cake on your make-up, hurt yourself more, or shoot your brain to the fucken walls. You scarred me for life and all you needed was to be loved. You took life in your hands and made a mistake that can never be riden through. Every you experienced you lived through...you would've been so strong. But you took a pussy pill with ingestion with a lead shot. I could've used you now. Just when things started to get sorted out you had to fuck things up; and mostly i cant fogive you because your not in fucking exsistance anymore. I never got to even tell you how much i loved you, how much i cared...I could've saved you. Do you know what kind of burden that leaves me with... thats selfish...which was always a problem with you. The last thing you said to me was selfish... you didnt want me to see you like you ended you...but Jessica and I fucking breathed in your toxic scene. I bet i could agree and talk to you now to relate how you felt. Thats the way things went...but there isnt a time that i wish you were still alive...breathing, talking, moving. Your now just a bloddy memory connected to post-traumatic stress under my eyelids. You were more than just a ten bag of dope and a syringe. You were an important piece in my life. We couldve made it through, which cuts me deep now. I know you did because of your life...but i just want you to know that if i could pay your life back, i would and we'd sort through the shit that your daddy left you. You did deserved more friends and compassion than what you got. Your mother was a white,dope-addicted, trash ass and she is alive above you...thats iritating and neaseating. The thought of both your shit lipped 'parents' alive over you is disgusting. I have slight flashes of your life if you were still in animation of life. I fucking love and miss you. Again, i could use your knowlege now.
I feel the blood flowing through my veins when im underneath my tranquilizers and its a feeling of sickening emotion that makes me feel like blood squirting would settle myself down. Or a emition from the vile bile that lives in the pit of my stomach. Caged and only unlocked when i need to drown out who i really am. It takes away some pain, and leaves me a fluid that i can connect to....feeling that I'm worth the same as it. It's an antidote I need at the worst of times...now I'm left with Gastroesophagal reflux after i swallow the food i stuff through my fucken face. This wont get any better...now. Thanks to my impulse and incontrolable mental aches and pains. This is a permanant scarring like the shit on my body thats not accepted by myself or anyone. It shows that all i needed was gentle love and a voice to talk to so that i didnt end up making my body a canvas to practice doctor exsaminations and insicions on. With this, i have nothing to turn back to. Just my past that makes me hate who i am...Which relates back to me using drugs. I needed an escape or anything to not feel who i am. Out of my skin is a much needed vacation because I'm so sick of the mental rape. I cant help but not think happy thoughts...its who i am. Which is why i always need to be running away from who i am.
I n T r O d U c i N G . . .
m Y l i F e a S i K n O w i T.
im just a fucked up stitch.