Shit rant poems

Heads

I feel as though during the day

I gain about eight heads or more

Possibly much more

But

A majority get pulverised

And leaves the main headquarters

Clouded and stained with blood

I think these heads come

And aggressively go

With each clump of decisive thoughts

And then

Sit atop my neck

Putting pressure on my shoulders

More than slowly

And certainly surely

Destroying my back

But i wont notice

Not until its too late

And when I do

Even if i do

I'll still be wobbling

And dodging bullets

Hoping my words don't cause a chain reaction

That blows up in my collective heads faces

And make me lose one

Off my weighted neck

That already holds my overly large head

The only one visible to others

The one that carries everything that I hold dear

But then also everything I don't

Idk wtf this is