Do you think they’ll drop the bomb?


I’m still breathing oxygen, deep into these lungs
Inhale exhale, like the songs I sung
Quite confused on my decisions with life
A hollow shell, with an aura ignoring the light
Winter starts it’s vice grip, constricting my soul
Anaconda like “Yes”, I hear apathy whispering in my ear
Whilst stabbing Empathy to death
Ignorance dances with
Jealousy, while Care nudges my arm but I ignore it,
taking a quantum interest with my vision torn to
the limit
I feel pallid having a cup of tea with Malice in Wonderland,
she understands me, see, I don’t care to be the pedagogue
you people expect me to be, honestly, I’ve cheated on
philanthropy, made love with the sadistic f*** everything
I’m suppose to care about, I’ll reside in my philistine whereabouts
And once again, I’m left alone with solace’s hand on my head
While I stagger out the bar, half awake and half dead
Walking home I noticed the trail of blood I left behind
Screaming to the moon, I cry “Why?!”
I slip down into the snow lying on my back, raucous yells
causes the sky to crack
And through that crevice, Realism
steps through, Earth bound.
With her silver luminescent hand, she
helps me off the ground, and we walk off into the raindrops
and the clouds, making not a sound.
I’m not breathing Oxygen, not in these lungs, exhale an Inhale, the
songs I never sung
I understand my decisions with life, a full body
with an Aura in the light
I’ll break Winter’s wrists, and have sex with
Mrs. Apathy, next to Empathy’s corpse, happily
Ignoring ignorance, not caring about care, and overseeing jealousy
I denounced malice/ now let me speak/
This life will kill you if you rely on fate to dictate your ways, with that said…
my soul happily evaporated in liquid waves.
Goodnight Mother.

-Rich

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About Oil Underneath

I drink glasses of cold water.
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