Upside Down Days & Nights
A nocturnal creature, full of shade and unborn newborn babies; wasted against the side, underwear creamed full of shit smells; funky thoughts becoming too loud, I feel I'm going to eat myself to death; stuffed full of myself, I get too sick of what I see in the mirror; gazed down this Morgan's bottle, I swore I quit earlier; jonesing for some escape, or maybe just some smoke; violent thoughts strong, gotta love it when the UFC is on; an ultimate saviour, from my own sense of terrible self-worth; I'm alone in the night now, few creatures to bring the annoyance out of me; but deep down inside there's something else waiting, I'm sure it's big and blue and fit to hand a quick battering to me; sizzling and burning, knocking a big stink up, my quesadillas are almost done; I already said Imma eat myself to death, didn't know it would feel so serene and calm; sat down in this disabled person's chair of arms with illusions that I care for my life and my future, like everything's gonna be all right; all of this wondering not realising it's a dead man's suicidal thoughts giving me some heart to pick the next triangle of quesadilla up; slopping on my bare skin, I hear the sink taps dripping; over and over again like these thoughts will eventually make sense, they ring off the corners of my dome; knocking all sense off the shelves, I tip toe to just smell; these dirty fingers, god only knows what they've been playing; and these eyes, who have they recently been turned to; three skin shades of colour, strewn up my goddamn arms; reminds me how I struggled under the sun, for a little bit of fun; an old-time distraction, an earnest attempt to run away from all the confusion; lost three thousands miles away from what I want, too dumb to stand up and claim it or just move on; trapped inside a basement, I never knew where it was at; my best guess its in my house, that old one I locked myself out of; family and sense estranged, a true stranger to everyone who knows me, especially myself; push, pulled and groomed into this land of wicked thoughts, opinions and oniony stench; I'm like a spicy bottle you attend to, dump and pour it into your food; mix it real well and forget how its about to enter in to you, just wait till you feel the burn; such a faithful cuck to the stranger in the mirror, but I suppose I know it's me whose about to get fucked; three badges stapled to my skin, they're backwards can't read em; best guess would be to think they say: you're broke, stupid and far too gone to recover; there's no future for you, in the dreams that you brewed you; not got enough guts to support the pumping little heart you got in your chest; I'm simply just too feeble.
