jetpack like spy kids
my head is aching, day four in sobriety. is it the drugs or every- thing that runs about my dreams all the people in my night- mares never let me sleep. my angry father, my old lover, or my...
my head is aching,
day four in sobriety.
is it the drugs or every-
thing that runs about my dreams
all the people in my night-
mares never let me sleep.
my angry father, my old
lover, or my mother's screams.
i go to bed at noon
and i wake up at three.
no power left, make some coffee
just whatever's cheap.
folgers tastes like cigarettes,
a cup of apathy.
wanna sleep inside a noose
on a dramatic tree.*
eyes on gucci cus
they're catching bags
they're getting dark, like the
stones came, painted them black
i wanna move to where the dems are at.
to the palm trees and the medicine.
i fantasize about a booked flight,
goodbyes, and a packed bag.
fresh check, laptop,
in my backpack
new friends, new home,
and a black lab.
but that's all in the clouds
and my drugs are a jetpack.
but now i'm sober
and i'm jetlagged.
and now she's back
turning my dreams bad
woke up, aching head,
and a hurting back.
dig in my closet
for a white bag.
if i'm lucky it's a heart attack.
- this line isn't mine, wish it was though, i love how self-aware it is when it comes to the hyperdramatic bullshit i always write. would love to write some more stuff in this style.
oddly enough, it's from a game grumps episode of super mario galaxy lmao
maybe adding that and fixing the meter in these. i feel like the meter in my sober stuff is really jumpy - i can hear the different parts in my head but i don't think im piecing them together well.