Zit

I swear paranoia is like a zit I’m wearing on my face. However if I didnt fuck with it so much maybe then it wouldn't be so noticable.

Oh

My ode

To nothing but myself.

Oh how the mad glow from the t.v screen seems surreal and yet so normal next to the eye with the same gloss over it.

But the naked iris is hot and tired of the rain inside and sunshine out…

Back then they would twist and shout and now…. Well what about now?

Back then they would twist and shout much like I want to right now but alas I let my surroundings keep me bound from acting a foolish buffoon.

A goon writhing like crazy and good riddance he’s all boxed up…

How dare they.

How dare I fall into the clutches of such a state and without the whiskey ocean.

My emotion is distilled with liquor rage and a glass of a god’s sadness. Still, my anxiety is not fulfilled goddamn

I swear

Sometimes

Paranoia is like a zit….