What have I

where has become
this urge the reason to burn this world
take no prisoners
I want bags in bodies
torn limb by limb with each heart kept in a jar and each dream kept so far
that what you think you see in the sky is a falling star... That's the rest and the best of you
begging for freedom from this madness
from this pain this fucked up misery
mean while we look at the source of the problem as we are staring hatefully in. the mirror
with all sorts of fucked up questions
But then all of a sudden it hits you
had it not been you this wouldn't have happened
had you not took a sip out of that bottle or smoke that bud you probably would have been sober enough not to panicked tragic
if only this could all dissapear
poof
and just like magic
all that darkness and hatred built up inside becomes reverted back to you
so now Tue only question left is
What the Fuck are you going to do ?
it's either become the late
or catch someone you envy with even so much as a shrivel of