crema.

Bishop
Thu, 26 Jul 2018 07:15:18 +0000

ive had this idea in the back of my head for awhile, roll with me.

sad parties.

so much emphasis on things being perfect, people being perfect, work being perfect, life being perfect. so many people caught up in social media subconsciously at battle to live a filter-perfect lifestyle.

sad parties.

a bunch of people youre close to get together at a comfortable apartment, good food, lots of drinks, lots of drugs. everyones free to indulge as they wish. all the lights go off except for a fireplace or some low-impact nightlights by an easel, and theres just a stream of sad music in the background. no words spoken unless you directly enter a conversation with someone. no forced interaction. just lots of pillows, blankets, and vibes.

really want one of these. might make it a regular thing once i head out west.

anyways, back to the reason we're all here. more sad drunk poetry<3

thank you for all those who leave the comments. i honestly wouldnt keep posting if it werent for you all giving me that little nudge of support. it means a lot.

much love.

bishop.

metal must be the best flavor of ice cream.
take a double scoop, hope i dont see the morning
leaded kiss orgasm, baby send me out moaning
dropped my puppet strings, guess im not worth controlling.
metal must be the best flavor of ice cream.
must be in a coma, two years been a bad dream.
poor lost lamb caught up with a black sheep
just another sad white kid, rest in peace Peep.

maybe some lives werent meant for the living
maybe some dreams were meant to go missing
kinda miss the way you would scream like a banshee
kinda miss the way you would threaten to leave me
wanna go back to the days when you need me
always liked how youd cut me deep, and then heal me
if it makes you smile when i cry, then abuse me.
really wouldnt mind if you came back to use me,

cant feel good enough on the nicotine therapy
oxygen coming through airily, barely
slaps on my face were a heavenly remedy
soft pink lace was a beautiful heresy.
pain, drugs, suicidal tendencies, obscurity
wanna fade to black, tell God roll the credit scene
another funeral in the wake of our legacy
metal must be the best flavor of ice cream

(beat.)

metal must be the best flavor of ice cream.
take a double scoop, hope i dont see the morning
leaded kiss orgasm, baby send me out moaning
dropped my puppet strings, guess im not worth controlling.
metal must be the best flavor of ice cream.
must be in a coma, two years been a bad dream.
poor lost lamb caught up with a black sheep
knocking back four different drugs just to get sleep

metal is the only thing i feel around me
liquor by the half cup never stops pouring
you held me down, now i feel like im falling
up to the sky, sunshine in the mourning.

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