The air outside is heavy.
I’m weighed down with guilt.
Your prejudice target.
I have to dress casual for court tomorrow.
I lost a bet to my ex and now I love alone.
Propriety damage on the housing of my brain.
There is no point in me living without uncontrolled substances.
A steroid to enjoy running after adrenalin.
The fumes of whats being cooked in the kitchen makes me horny.
There are way to many fatherless children.
I need this pen to win first place.
This morning I filled my tea cup up with emotions and dropped it.
Its broken now, how familiar.
A rebel that escaped the devil. I went though the wind shield crashing into my reality challenging the pain of blocking fresh cut fate tempting to taste all the spoils of war. My life I don’t adore when attempting suicide is such a bore defending my stand point is now my only chore. So I will love on only to indour…. More pain!