Exit Into This

BrockaMood RoomLeave a Comment

Another subconsciously aware sleepless night; at least once a week.
Walking feet coming up behind me, both dreaming vividly
Proposed, to commit suicide over a crime with two other guys
sitting bitch-seat of a convertible, approaching an elevator…
to shoot up.
To eliminate ourselves
I bail at the last minute. There is time.
With a cash-wad, folded over
Bent to go in hiding.
So many heavy themes in this ONE, no sense denying him.
Now religious fasting
Two concepts bide, law of attraction
vastness open inside of me, opens void to keep filling
The atheist finds their vacuum, and the scientist beaker is starving
Kiss me this, a chin turns sideways
In life where we spend our time and with which people
What I dont want; how is there room for what I do?
Fighting to control always the problem, what seems to be controlling
Not the yin and yang I swing from
As a pretty feminine lady fighting a masculine quality
Prepping for the man, atoned then reignited
Burning in the heat of it, to make up a family’s clan
Getting fed by the meat of it
While in ritual killings, done to create the same cycle again
Make toast to the habit of sitting at dining room tables
Breaking bread sets up our Big Bang
All distracted by the scattered crumbs
that only provide the same trail, leading back to where it came from
Dropped off at the curb, where I started
Jumped over the puddle illuminated
Under the street lamp glow, I walk followed.
Moving through same scenes and same faces.
People I cant replace them.
Buried under to crawl or be a part of
Switched-on to carry on, the same cycle
All for growing up.

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