Self destructive habit–

In cycles, I nab it,

Tryna let go of drab shit

But in the end

I grab it.

Lab wit.

Test-tube babies of

My creativity:

Experiments in

My native mental scene.

I’m green with


There she goes

With a man who’s

Not me.

I think screams.

I kill in dreams.

Since when do I feel


It’s not me.

It never has been,

At least.

So now comes out

The ego feast, I

Shout but only on

The inside.

I lie.

At least I hide it, tryna

Keep my shit

Together and

Hold out the weather

Cause weather don’t last.

It changes SO fast.

But who knows

What kind of storm blows

Next, or if it will mean

My ass?

Heart of glass.

Beautiful and delicate

Not built to take a hit,

It shatters with a

Loud crash.

Pick up the

Pieces and glue them

Whole again.

It’s all pretend cause

In the end, you

Never really fix glass,

My friend.

Just waiting

For another sinner to

Stab it– smash it,

Grope it or grab it,

Resetting cycles of


It’s habit.


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