sapient

[Eŋg]

Another day of complete failure, some speech’s alien:
nothing I can bleed from my tongue seems salient.
Asleep - sapient with a keen razor wit,
I barely even dream lately it’s a fiend trading hits
in the mirror, where I notice my build’s thinner. Twist slivers
of sensimilla between the rizla before I skip dinner
and sit, bitter, with the sweet taste of irony, fire and green.
Temper thoughts till grey matter sheets change to iron, ire and steel
I can feel, or just wield
with zeal; and hope my scion recognizes its seal.
I’m tired. Tired of even trying to find what’s real
on an uneven keel worn in my gait’s patter:
carry a penchant for the most unsafe patterns of behaviour
as if natural or favourable, in a false paradigm, what’s crazier?
Not having Time to spare but to iron my paisley shirt.
I see Evil in the world, and what hurts is I may be worse
through lethargy, or something - empty efforts to be nothing
are effectively as stunting. Burn my effigy
into anything eternally disposable,
rather be forgotten than relegated to merely ‘quotable’.
I chose to kill cherished moments in view of the camera
in hopes it would undo all my illusions of candor.
I know the deal: delusions of grandeur
ensure my stupor and malady usually hang a
-round. Losing sanity, and gravity, by the pound,
I’m heavy, God, my words never weighed this much.
I’ve an old soul moulded from earth that ancients cut.
Knew amor once, now all a bitch can do is make me lust,
maybe strut, shake her butt, and take this dick in place of love.
It pays to trust but I’m broke as fuck with smoker’s lung,
my wallet is just motes of dust that got me choking up
and I don’t give enough of a fuck to not have wrote it up.