yaya

[Zen]

I chew it and grit my teeth. Spit it out and lift my feet to hit this loud within my cheeks. Emit a cloud. I'm spinning again this week. Upended. Become the villain you need. A slave to depression. Angry, unchained. Obsessive to rage. Aggressive and decaying. The wait is regression. Insane and decompressing. Impressions of angst. Confessions, weighing indiscretions each day with the reverend. Athiest, still hoping to make it to heaven. Submission, suppression. Suggestions: Hate is a weapon. Half-empty/Half-full. Totally wasting perception. A coma patient only afraid of reception. I comb, I shave. It takes ten seconds. Least that's what I tell myself. It's more like ten minutes so people won't think I have bad hair, but why does that matter? We're making life a disaster hoping for the light to come afterwards. Self-fulfilling prophecies. All unique snowflakes. All crystal in quality. Just to end up in a pick up giddy on molly. Oh, the pity. Why bother with life if you only squander it? Matrices of lies. Whatever makes you survive. Take what you like. Hate what you despise. That Satanist vibe that's still awake in your basement with knives. That time you saw that face that made you think she's the wife. None of it's real however you look at it. Only real in your mind. Sickness, ill just to feel compliant. Only real when dying. Those passing moments where you gaze off wondering what you should have did. Oxygen mask humming hymns to what could of been. A tear falls onto the pillow, a crow shrieks out your window. The moment is bleak. now you feel cold.