I wake up. Stare. Burn, I scar demons into my bones, leaving my essence in the bathroom sink. Stain.

Somewhere between onesies and lost teeth, between pull ups and C cups,  Tola left. And I took her place. Gone but never forgotten, I tried to stitch her back to me. With each needle prick, I thought I got a little closer. I didn't know any better, you know, There should have been someone to protect me from this. You know, like a fucking parent? Well them thangs is a dime a dozen these days but I been broke since birth, Using all my cash as drug money. Its worth it too. You know, I got the best weed man in the world. He be throwing me that good stuff that yall don't know nothing about. Yall be smoking loud and think y'all doing some thing, 

Man, you ain't messing with me. 

Look here.

Tell me, you ever got high off death before? 

Yeah, you heard what I said.

I'm tryna get high off death. 

Death.

I wanna get so high, I'll sing to an angel, and fall from them gates into hell like Satan.

I wanna get so high gravity gets mad at me and pulls me beneath the depths of the earth.

I wanna get so high, I go down on the galaxies, light up and make her come for me, popping Mollys and purple ecstasy.

I wanna OD on codeine and rape life until I efff her to death.

 

I see the looks on your face. Looking at me like I'm freaking crazy or something. Well this stuff will do that to you. Depression is one hell of a drug. Stronger than that loud  that yall be blowing. Stronger than that UV y'all swear yall be pouring, stronger than them blurred lines, that coke yall be snorting, Cuz this stuff right here?! got me soaring. Soaring through sub-terrestrial plains, flying through dampen plateaus and terrains, torment to entertain, I swear I'm going insane.

Plug, Inject, release. Tears for today, hatred for tomorrow and the pain of yesterday. My daily fix, I can't go without it. 

Figures on my shoulder. Devil on my left, and on my right, a trail of prayers to an absentee father. Thinking of a God that does not hear me. He warned me tho. "The thief does not come except to steal, to kill, and to destroy." And I say mission accomplished. Because I’m caught, trapped. Lost, enclosed, confined in revolving doors that never open upon demand. Fighting a war against myself, and the causalities are adding up. Win a battle here, lose a battle there. This war, attrition in totality, a fiend for fatality, self harm, brutality,  summoning my sanity, a fucked up mentality,  CALL ME son of satanity. 

Read my scars. Stamping prints - no, bar codes, the number of the beast, paying homage to my owner. I am on fire. burn. I scar demons into my bones, leaving my essence in the bathroom sink. Stain. Depression is one hell of a drug.

My daily fix, I can't go without it.