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a poem: by patrick star
the blunt fell from my lips as despair crashed in waves over me.
the bud fell upon my thigh as a burn seemed to kiss my skin.
I looked out of the coffee shop window and felt even gayer as i listened to Panic! At The Disco.
Damn, that daddy could make anyone scream, even a starfish like me.

The rain poured down, just like my tears after spongebob failed his 78th drivers test.
in that moment everything was blue,
more tears roll down my face as i open instagram
all these basic bitches with ivory ellas.
why couldn't anyone be as soft grunge and hipster as me?

As I look down at the burn on my leg I nutted into the void,
life is never ending pain, only the love of my life squidward brings light into it.
i will never forget his words
"patrick you're a fucking idiot shove that dick up my ass"
"your wish is my command papi"

I don't even think about blowing bubbles anymore...just squidward;)
fuck, the coffee shop vibes are getting to me i'm getting too emo.
get flamed.
because i'm not a basic bitch i use quality social media like tumblr,
what can i say i'm just too aesthetic for everyone?
my white linen sheets reflect me, bland and artsy.

As cigarette smoke surrounds me i yet again nut into the void and fade to darkness....
back to the dark clouds that surround my thoughts.

a poem: by Patrick starWhere stories live. Discover now