by kuylerquijas

Put your finger under my nose, I’m about to sneeze.
Only God knows how you got me feelin on your knees.
I’ve read through too much Socrates to be still listening to rehearsed apologies.
I’ve seen too many fakes to believe in prophecies.
Every time I turn away it feels like Shaq is guarding me.
It’s a curse the way I don’t trust you when I have to leave.
You said you wouldn’t hurt me but it didn’t happen.
I’m locked inside a Denny’s bathroom looking for a napkin
To wipe my nose with.
These are the feelings I don’t wanna die with.
I’m at a bit of a crisis I’ve looked everywhere but can’t find where Christ is.
You’re lookin at me but my eyes are stiff like I’m looking at some hieroglyphs.
The devil’s calling on a landline so I pack my bags and split.
You’re never really mine and I’m getting kind of sick of it.
I have so many negative thoughts and I can’t seem to get rid of it.
All yours ended with a period.
My spirit is sittin on a pack of pyramids and I don’t know if I’m being serious
Or I’m just a bit delirious from this lack of sleep.
You can’t always tell if it’s a wolf or sheep.
Tangled emotions got me feeling like a heap of middle school boys getting laughed at for being sensitive.
Fuck it, I’ll pick up a pen and spliff.
It’s a matter of time to see who outlives.