i have a real bad habit of being a piece of shit
always fucking up and saying the wrong thing and doing the wrong action
the memory never ever fades and they haunt me until i'm suicidal again
i want to drown my sorrow and self-loathing in weed stuffed blunts and acid laced dreams
smoking as i walk with friends down streets lined with empty steel buildings and abandoned hopes and dreams
hallowed graffiti illustrating the meaning of life on the sides of brick structures
hazy music describing the mood of the neon signs in the dark
the depressed city slowly pulling itself from its grave
heartbeats of the citizens intertwine and give an energizing yet melancholy vibe
this is what feeds our poisoned minds the antidote to our troubles
YOU ARE READING
Poetry?
Poetryuh just feelings vomited onto a page, some dredged up from my school docs accnt. maybe it's semi-good. just basic teenage boy angst. enjoy if you want. heads up, some // n o t f u n v i b e s// ahead
