Daily ventings

[Bodey]

I’ll do a topical piece. I’m often perceived as this washed-up “emcee” who’s polished with beads of the sweat that involves unresolved hospital fees. Normally I would’ve opted to flee cuz my oxygen’s weak, I’m panicking like a box of lost kittens gettin tossed in a creek. What’s the matter with me? I’m so wrapped up in glee as Em raps to a beat cuz he hasn’t done that since I was 16. I lied, it just rhymed, so I said the wrong age. I’m a fly, real dysfunctional adult with some rage. What’s really on my mind is my job at Ruby Tuesday cuz they’re distributin cruel pay and it’s definitely too late. I’m draped across a tomb, gray, pouring out their booze, hey. Nice to meet you, I’m nicole. The drink of the day is called death row. And like death row, you have to wait, swallow asbestos and lots of hate. Fuck a restaurant. I’ll contaminate their fresh croissants with lead and bronze and act like they’ve been blessed upon the flesh Lebron is sweatin on. This obsession is a ruckus worse than stress without a substance or sexin on a dick that doesn’t really seem to function. It’s aggressive with the fuck-its, it’s a weapon of destruction spilling clear across my dreams in all directions of a compass