GRAVE
999
i wrote a dissertation and i labeled it death
coffee smoke and alcohol to make it correct
its almost like an algorithm, maybe it's less
more like tendencies and habits that will lay me to rest
known to be repetitive like gospel or song
peeling back the skin to let a concept evolve
i killed the bottle and laughed. i felt resurgence, resolve
now walk away. it's not your murder to solve. dirt in my palm
toss it in your casket like a personal offering
pencil to the paper once the curtains are drawn
many tagalong and bottomfeed like urchins or moss
follow my distortion like it's sermon or psalm
it's foolish now to recreate what's destined to change
see: weathervanes and everyday affectionate gazes
set in your ways. i hate you but i want you to stay
i want you to stop me before i lock me away
sobbing while i polish my cage. it's not my gospel to praise
it's not constant malaise. it's like a wash in the rain
as toxic as it is we idolize it the same
follow me, the real odyssey, a walk to your grave
DEADMAN
__________________
Zack Wicks for president
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