Salt and Mud

You left me stranded

So I drowned in
Gun fire, Jack Daniels
And 40oz”s

Drama, flying saucers
Bullets lost in
brick walls

Lodged

In house furniture
Sold out slugs

Copper tops tree top
Pirus

Cookie cutters

My Dimu called
Them bookie
Butters

Like he
Had a speech
Impediment

Thats just Blood
edicate

Raised hell
A bit

To intelligent

In a cell a bit

Letters never
Sent never
Touched

like
They were
Celabate

You
Never sent
A letter back

The child
That was once
Beaten blue

Brused for
For nothing

By you

Clutching a belt
Shaped as a “U”

Ungrateful
And unfaithful like
Samson

So

I stay absent

Like you

Straight Up Depression

The original copy of. The mental pistol whipped in the head. Hairline fractured softly.

Do I want to live?

Do I want to die?

Die in this!

Pointless!

Pointless!

Errors birth right!

Sick riiiggghhhttt…………………

 

Driving my truck in stuck. Parked got out to walk into traffic. A post mortem morgage that I cant pay no longer. I don’t bother…

 

Aginst the wall upside-down, down and down. No following in may as well. Suggestions on what you think I need to do. Pushing on makes me want to kill myself more. There is a deep, deep place of peace in me..

Self burning down the past, present and future. Along with a picture of me smiling. After my fifth grade graduation. Bad times early! Left broken blood vessels! outside and on a child’s woes vessels!

Toes wiggling less from the rope manufactured. While legs keep dangling. No one heard me fall… Everyone was there.

 

No love…

No job…

Not Christian…

More criticism…

Mind of hatred…

Heart full of doubt…

Hatian blood…

Ex con…

Please never ask me about my family!

Sick…

Needing a hug…

Maybe a for head kiss…

No education…

High risk…

No sence…

No one gives…

They take with a smile…

Using love to lurer me in…

Do I look like a small child?!

Fuck love…

Fuck you…

Fuck him…

My boots float on top of brackish water in the lake. Low life welfare, project, section 8 peace of shit! Sticking around for why… Eating the same shit! Seeing the same kind of killings! Shoot outs on the strip! Everybody struggling just to eat and make rent! Looking into the eyes of a kid saying……

“He’s going to become a killer one day…”

“I hope love finds him some day…”

“No one in the childs house all day…”

“Will he just take his life one day…?”

 

“Sorry kid…”

I just don’t have the money. Fuck am I living for. When all my eyes see is ugly

Lifes great ain’t it…………