Pull my hair;
Kick me while I’m down
Ignore me when I come around,
Apollo don’t exist.
Kick dirt in my eyes
And follow with a fist
I swallow all the shit
And bottle all of this
And wear it as cheap cologne.
The seeds were sown
And were fertilized
By this corpse who bleeds alone
Deceit was shown
Towards this sorry sack of flesh
With leaky bones
Who feeds on poems.
The feast was on!
See this vagabond’s
A bag of bones
Teetering
Like he’s way too cool.
Damn it all;
Whether east,
West,
North,
Or south
The broken compass reads,
“Either way you’re screwed”.
So I’m pacin’ in this maze of faces
Chasin’ patience this phase
Of basics, basis base is
Where I stray and
Where I stray and
Face it,
I know defeat,
Right down to how
It tasted.
Taste it
But never drink the Kool-Aid,
Apollo’s never loving them cults
Imperfect,
From my breath to my pulse
See allow me to reveal some of my faults.
I’m narcissistic, pessimistic,
And, really,
Any kind of “istic”
You can think of
Realistic,
A pleading misfit
Left out in the sun to dry
Or at least till I stink up.
A commitaphobe with issues
Of abandonment
I’m shocked
I haven’t panicked yet
Stonefaced like
A mannequin
With no advantages
And cuts with no bandages.
See us poets?
We bleed
For you,
Hang and crucify
Ourselves,
For you,
And I speak
The truth
But really,
There wouldn’t be an “us”
Without a crowd
So what we really need
Is you.
So here, this heart is yours
But these scars are mine
And they’re hard to hide
And I’m mortified
Over analyzing
All my issues,
I labeled them
And called it life.
I go through it
With an empty stomach
And a full bladder
It won’t matter
Till you bite the bullet
And it goes scattered
In the gut
Of the most addled.
But this yellow brick road,
Turned black
With thoughts telling me
To turn back from this cursed path.
Pretending like
I ain’t heard that
Chasing my own tail
With a hurt back and burnt fat.
Left snagged in the web
Of a black widow,
She owned a head wrap
And a swollen abdomen
God looking at me
Like “You just had to win”,
I count to ten and pick up
My ego but it was a counterfeit.
I don’t fit in,
Nah, not in this scene
Spitting it in double time
Like:
Gotta get in where you fit in
But the battle’s hard
Been thinkin’ of quittin’
And I’m battle scarred.
Or maybe I do fit,
Blame it on my
Outcastic nature
My issues are major
Questioning my existence,
I blame the God
That made ya,
I lost that wager.
The pointless person,
Like a lobotomized Batman,
Or a paraplegic Flash
An arachnophobic Spider man,
A Superman that’s afraid of heights
Not made to last.
So I’ll bottle all of this
And swallow all the shit
With dirt in my eyes
Followed by a fist
Pull my hair;
Kick me while I’m down,
Ignore me when I come around
Cuz Apollo….
Don’t exist.
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