donate to ya boy

Monday, July 9, 2012


"head wound city"
her mind a wasteland
what a has somthing to do with this century
it's like we're all damned.
we smoked cigarettes and discussed dental dams
family was the last topic that crossed our hands
I,like her,wondered if we truly even gave a damn.
thoughts swam
our graveyard picnic had suddenly turned foul
signs slithering out of every inch of her mouth
like: "we'd be in love until our hearts gave out"
she would say
that little voice inside my brain suddenly rang
"diz bitch cant get no play!"
this again
another gallon of whiskey down
faded out/
sedated and in a state of paranoia about the state i'm in
its like random bouts with clarity keep me entertained
on a claim to fame train
sprouts of a name
that is a product of THIS brain
but my prayers for rain have been answered
and that rancid feeling in my gut has given in
to a colluss feeling that juggernauts pain
I now understand I was born this way.

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