"Don't Joke About Murder, You're Sick If You Do.
Don't Laugh At Suicide, What If It Was You.
Don't Kid About Violence, That's Not Nice To Say."
What Am I Suppose To Talk About, The Weather? That Shits Always Grey.
I Can't Talk About Murder But That's The Only Thing Here.
I Couldn't Joke About Suicide When My Own Family Told Me To Disappear.
And About Violence, Well That's Just My Life.
My Life Is A Joke So Why Not Laugh At It, Right?
YOU ARE READING
Figure 8.
PoetryI Figured If I Did This. I Could Figure Out Whats Next. My Fingers Dance The Figure 8. Thats How I'll Start This Mess.
