What if I told you I wake up screaming and swinging,
Dreaming that I'm fighting demons,
Dreaming I'm swinging on heathens competing and scheming to eat every piece of my peace when I'm sleeping.
I need a priest and a deacon,
I'm speaking to preachers telling them I'm only at peace when I'm blinking,
I'm sinking deep into hell thinking I'm fiending for freedom because being in a well isn't good for my well being.
A walking zombie I'll be comatose.
Nobody loves a nobody who probably overdosed in a lobby of the Omni Hotel,
Probably find me with an empty bottle of Oxy shaking like an earthquake's inside me or I caught the holy ghost.
Wondering if therapy could get rid of these monsters,
Before I kill more people than Jarred Lee Laughner,
They spit on me
Split on me
Society kicked on me
Hit on me til I was sick and exhausted,
Flipped and I lost it off hallucinogenics they used in a clinic all for Lucifer's image.
YOU ARE READING
Monster
PoetryHere's a poem that I wrote in a dark time of need. I was in a dire place of desperation.
