• the_fox 10w

    a commentary on my reality

    coming from the cloud nine
    with my thoughts in the basement,
    all my feelings are miseducated,
    sublimated heart, the days are improportionate
    and there's no escape
    when the cries for help are braggadocious,
    arrogant and unsedated.

    wish there was some time left
    for me to save myself.
    drug addiction is the chip on my shoulder,
    bartered my soul for materialistic desires;
    fear of a seizure, or a cardiac arrest
    while walking the stairs of my apartment;
    or, probably ending up as a convict,
    in a courtroom, getting a lifelong prison statement.

    allies switch to foes,
    darkness has turned to an enemy.
    trying to be a better version of myself,
    trying not to play eeny-meeny-miny-moe
    with the medical shelf;
    state-of-the-art pistol to my head,
    muzzle to my face, it hurts to spell "A-M-E-N",
    because if there's a God,
    he's only helped me suffer,
    every tragedy to him is an oops- accident;
    there's no leap of faith, taking shots
    of nitroglycerin to my chest,
    hoping this piece qualifies as a cry for help.