man I been thinkin too much again which ain't news but it's new how the shit been hittin like everybody wants the truth till the truth starts twitchin then it's whoa slow down what the fuck's your problem bitch YOU ASKED now I'm backpedalin babblin battlin half of a sentence with a habit of makin myself sound less offended than I actually am damn ain't that a talent turn a fuck you into nah it's fine with a smile then spend the next six hours mentally gettin violent with an imaginary version of the conversation where I finally said the shit I should've said instead of sittin there noddin like a goddamn ornament I swear my head's a fuckin terrible neighborhood everybody talkin shit nobody ever understood who invited who or why the hell we even gathered and the loudest motherfucker in the room is the one who says it doesn't matter well it MATTERS TO ME apparently embarrassingly I'm exceptionally good at bein everybody's temporary emergency then when the urgency diminishes I'm history oh that's rich that's a real fuckin interestin little trick turn a person into purpose then dispose of em when fixed and I keep on gettin picked cause I keep on sayin yes like a dumbass with a doormat and a phD in regret bitch I barely graduated from stop replyin to that text see that's the thing I still wanna try ain't that some stupid beautiful bullshit I can be bitter as a lemon dipped in battery acid and still catch myself hopin somebody means it when they say they're glad I'm here wasn't plannin on sayin that now I'm standin here emotionally naked with a microphone and an attitude somebody hand me my fuckin pants and preferably the ones with pockets cause I keep misplacin pieces of myself in other people's problems then go diggin through the wreckage like a raccoon with a conscience and a fuckin sinus infection sniff sniff yeah that's depression or the dust or the fact that I ain't slept enough to differentiate between em either way I'm sneezin on somebody's expectations and I hope the motherfucker's allergic been a bad little habit of a halfhearted humanitarian handin out my headspace to the nearest hysterian hysterical historical habitual contrarian with a tendency to turn a tiny slight into a fuckin planetarium all these stars I used to wish on turnin out to be fluorescent little bulbs inside a building where the rent is fuckin endless and the landlord is my brain and the lease is nonnegotiable and somebody keeps complainin that the music is emotional well NO SHIT it's a song what the fuck did you expect an instruction manual my mouth makes a mess of the math when the memories multiply one half wants to holler other half wants to justify why I let the same old sorry ass situation qualify as a reason to reconsider what I saw with my own eyes fuck a clean calculation I'm a walking contradiction with a vicious little diction and a terminal addiction to imagining a version of a person who'll come listen when I finally quit translating all my anger into fiction I been renting out the premises to people who ain't paid me and the eviction's gettin messy cause I still remember birthdays my head's a soggy fuckin walnut runnin electrical complaints inside a skull with a mouth attached and somehow that's supposed to make me qualified to understand another human being I miss people I hate people I love people I don't particularly like how much I mean it but the music makes a mess of every reason I conceal it and I'm sick of bein quiet sick of makin myself diminished so crank the motherfucker I ain't finished
0/500