The Discontentment Of A Post-Poor Halfway-Emo Kid

I am teeter-tottering on the skinny silver lining of the life I'm currently living.

I balance in bliss and blind myself from my own discontent.

Discontentment wedged itself inside the fat walls of my Daddy's wallet and 

Beside my own ungratefulness.

I have a dirty mountain of material misguidance that barely fits in my cold closet.


Post-poor kid forgot the pains of poverty.

Now I'm trying to fill the void of 


Left inside my greedy big-kid chest.

Subconsciously substituting loneliness for any good blades on sale. 

At least I can still think about the relief it would buy me.


Karma sent Longing and Emptiness on a 'round-the-world tour.

They came, and I saw, and I felt everything I never felt before,

While feeling absolutely, agonizingly alone.

I'm expecting my old suicidal idealizations to stop by a visit.

Dancing into my dreams, they'll film my dream hand cutting open my 

Dream wrist 

Dreamy blood dripping down my dream arm

Drowning me with all the feelings I still don't understand,

And still can't rid myself of. 


But maybe I don't completely want to. 


When my swollen eyes meet the morning's gaze

The idealizations will show me the videos they took.

I won't look away. 

I will revel in the extremes that I felt 

Like the halfway-emo kid I always was. 

Revel in my own emotional instability,

Or my obsession with it. 


I am okay, but my brain is wandering. 

I have what I need, but never what I desire.

Becuase I am always wanting

To feel, to own, to experience the physical and emotional extremes 

Of being alive. 









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