Random Rhymes #2

I want to bleed, I want to say

that everything will be okay

but sirens scream and plant the seed

of everybody's worst domain.

Love is quick like justice

served lukewarm (trust us)

on a plate serve rusted,

you're busted (just us).

We're going away for days and maybe I can say I tried, but

time is wasting away for days and maybe I can say I lied, but

ordinarily wishing carefully for the day that I die to

be one of spectacle so that people think I had a life.

Corner store with a forty-four like nothing else is alive,

walking out to a four-door like you didn't just end a life —

systematically killing yourself inside,

arbitrarily getting people high

on the medicine that your hands provide

and you just wash your hands of 'em.

Pilate relative, hope is relative,

that is why grass and pills are your subscribed sedative.

Sleep awake with your eyes closed, life is bad - secret's exposed.

Dead me, dead green, dead we, dead scene.

Pursed lips, cursed twitch.

Letting you know you're alive.

Dumb bitch, oh shit.

Vulgarity is your prime.

Aftermath, aftershock.

Card has just been declined.

Little bitty leech the preacher ain't warn about in time.

Why are we here?

Why are we left alone to steers our fears away?

Or let the pills tell us we're okay?

Or let the coat hangers test our faith?

What's your mistake?

First, second, third foremost,

nothing on this earth could come close

to this nagging, bickering

heavily snickering state of comatose.

Searching for a Boaz when we know as

much as most that

stories of stories of lost categories are never

much less of a ghost.

Let us be formal. Let us be cordial.

Principalities of my formalities are the fatalities of a new culture.

Like a vulture, the human feeds on the blood of their enemies.

Agriculture rotting other hearts that the rest of us feeds on.

Supremacy picks up Hennessey and jealousy soaks deep.

Legacy born happily and then just marinates in his sleep.

Alcoholic's anthem, new anabolic purchase.

Let's begin a ransom, so they all may worship.

Bow down to your worst dreams and

go and feen on the extremes because

nothing else works for the churches,

and you cannot refund your purchase.