A marked man
Breastfed painkillers
Loonie eyes cluckle on a murderers arms
Walls scratches do not constitute a lullaby
Go away. I find megalomaniacs sensual
In nature, virtue and prose, solidified opression
Shackles cutting far too shallow
A ditch, stank of piss, an hardcore interpretation
Of a toothpick, arranged vice, call it sleep
Drug pushin' the some of my insignificanse
There aint no flowers up my sleeve babygirl
Only borrowed misery and decay ill gains
Am I, perhaps, a dragon?
A narcissist hoarding knowledge
echo of a legacy fortified by pride;
a gross rouse snowballed,
past the mountain of blood diamonds
hoarded underneath my bed
stashed for better days, I gambled ventures
certain, confusing chances as 'do or die'
chained to pleasure and pain
Be it a blade that redesigns my insides
As a corporal motive, calibrated by wax
Frail like a lie held unto my tongue
Should I elaborate or die on my own.
I concur. I agree. Dictate the pace
Lest his minds rages in a spiral
Boiled eyes in a recent frenzy
Trashed ice cubes melt, our undoing
He proper ate her voice whole
Watershed venues downstairs
In a dark place, bruises meaningless
as a generation disappeared
It finally got to you, not a broken toy
how tiny her hany, never to be married
She cannot be given away son, you took
All the firsts, the ifs and sorrows
The joy in her eye, no longer lively
Inprinted
The little thing
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