8-17-17
Early rise,
Ground wet with last night's memory,
Sky fading into these cotton candy shades,
What a genuine feeling we've got.
Your rims hit mine,
And I see these roads lay themselves
Down for us,
On a bed sheet of fate.
But they don't lay
Without an arch,
Here to get with it.
All the way up,
Flick my tongue
Around the tip,
You hit the roof of my mouth.
*bang*
Your pistol told me
You weren't playing,
Which I'll admit was a sweet truth.
So we fucked the story,
Cause they don't lay,
For no reason.
Moment of silence,
Black.
After
Rain over me,
The water falls,
Makeup down my face-
Eyes run tap water.
Wash myself clean here,
Get your love outta my veins.
Hear the music play from the room over,
Flipping pages,
Starting chapters.
Hood attire,
Stepping out to a sight of freedom.
Don't let em know it's new for me,
White on the marble counters,
Looks and dirt throw the punches and pull the triggers,
The fixtures swing, but nothing else shakes,
Nicotine high like an all day smoke break.
Screendoors shut,
I'm curious to look.
The city gets trippier
The deeper I'm in,
Flowing like blood,
Busy,
Never had a moment of quiet.
Floating on these white pavement lines.
Angels in my head,
Heaven and god
Were never worth the price.
Riots in the streets
Scream loud,
But we traded hate for love.
From the outside,
It's as if we never learned,
But I see the energy beneath everything,
Pulsating in colors,
Stringing everything together,
While I left so many ends untied
Back there.
Turn a brick,
To a sleeve of tricks
And fall into a past life.
I drop the pistol to your tongue,
Written on the sides,
Meet your maker
What a power you've granted me,
And I pull the motherfucker
Because fear was the only thing
Keeping me from such an intensity.
They've got me now,
In the in-crowd,
Never to return,
But I hope you wake up
On the otherside
And get cleaner than you were day one,
I hope you find your paradise
So dark,
So perfect,
That it clarifies the image of truth,
Erases regret.
- (m.m)
This is metaphorical in so many ways, and based on a music video idea I had.
Written to The Worst and 3:16am by Jhene Aiko
YOU ARE READING
Self Deception
PoetryPoetry 2017 And if I burn out in a fit of psychosis, remember me as a young god, with that smile made of daggers, even if I was the most dangerous thing you could've touched. Perhaps all that danger comes from the multiple personalities, but all I...
