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SpacemanTheJinn

With the Cheshire Grin

Tag

pain

Momma…(or…Ay, ay, ay, ay)

Ay, Momma, I’m stuck in drama

The trauma dun made me dumber

This mind is steady in flutter

Flummoxin like a motherfucker

Dyin inside…

Chokin on the blood inside…

I guess that must be why

I’m failing when it comes to tryin

No more whining with the “why, why, why”s

The real is just the picture

The picture is just a fixture

I angle the fixture with liquor

Adding it to the scripture

Fleshing it out with pictures

Padding it, make it thicker

It’s a neverending cycle

And I’m sharing it in flickers

Tryin to fill in the fissures

Ay, momma, I ain’t feelin like a victor

WILL YOU?

You’ll remember me

When you reminisce within your dreams

When you hear your friends, your family, askin bout me

When it makes you wanna me scream

When you really, truly, do want me

You’ll remember me

UNDER

Under the influence of depression

I write with deep expression

Wit lead and pen, I’m flexin’

Gifted by trauma and stressin

I get my steps in

I’m lifted, I’m bangin within the moment

Know itI’m only drinkin, cuz I’m sinkin

And I’m metaphorically sinkin, cuz I’m stuck with all this thinkin

Plus, my balance has me blinkinSo, my crooked walkin?

Is cuz these thoughts, they stay knockin

And rockin, so I’m steady talkin

It gets me under fire and gives me the fire

It gets me higher

It’s the balance of a curse and a gift

It gives you rifts, it gives you lifts

Heart on my shoulder, bleedin my wrists

I ink this shit

DAMN IT

Try as I might, I can’t stop this pain

I even close my eyes looking for strength

Mind over mind, trying to force a change

Feeling empty, cold, alone, and late

Nothing is worth it, a wasteful weight

Music is a kiss, darkness is a blanket

Drinks and drugs to feel faded

Distractions from the depression laid in

SUICIDE

I’m tired tryin and cryin

I might just grip this knife

And give my neck a slice

Let my blood flow down my chest nice

Such an exaggerated suicide

Give my soul that feelin fly

Yes, counselor, I’m ready to die

*sigh* (or, Don’t Ask)

A monster manic in madness

Thinkin I think in static

Drunk, still drinkin on the brink

Cozy, introspectively nosy in a deep seat

No floating with goats, preposted to the wall of crows

Screaming woes perform in flows, but what do you know?

Life is rife with strife, don’t live without a knife

Or two or four or eight, it’s just right given the light

Dances in the rain hide the pain

Yet, strain improves the train for gains

Madness loves a monster manic

Dangerous changes birth from panic

Preposterous improvements manifest from scars

Bizarre flaws cross thresholds to be stars

Deep in the chest away from the rest

No flex, away from stress to analyze my less

Piqued interest to critique my inner me

Manic in my madness, what monster will I see?

YOU CAN FLOAT TOO

Begins gentle in the temples

Making you grit all the dental

You can taste the taste of metal

As there begins panic in the mental

Sweat’s pouring from the rental

You can feel the scream

Yet, it can’t leap

From your mouth, so it bleeds

The only escapees

Are the tears, so you weep

You don’t feel elite

You feel fallen deep

You feel torn, cracked, broken

Madness is poking

Sanity is choking

Despair has awoken

You have now become one of those here floating

I’M, I’M, I’M (or, SEAGULLS)

I’m limpin, you bitches think I be trippin

YOU TRIPPIN

And with that thinkin you be slippin

I’m drippin, but not what I’m sippin

I’m livid, I’m livin

Interchangeable in missions

Movement adept in switchin

Somersaultin mixed in with the flippin

Pokin holes, I’m Bulls, I’m Pippen

“Honey Biscuit”, am I hip and

Sorry not sorry for my existence

I’m thinkin I might be preferince

Drippin in purple, since

I ain’t worried if I make sense

Future, I’m still past what you think is tense

I’m livin like I’m feelin, like, “FUCK A RECOMPENSE”

My words is got the strength

No showers saved me from this mess

A nigga never feelin blessed

A nigga feelin like a mess

Yeah, nigga, call me stressed

I’m gon still move, cuz fuck a nigga pressed

And if you don’t like “nigga”

I don’t give a “nigga”, nigga

Cuz, a nigga is a nigga, not a nigger, but a “nigga”

Fuck ya figga, nigga

S.H.I.T.

Sometimes, I think about my lies

Sometimes, I think about my crimes

Sometimes, I fantasize the moment I could die

Hell, I’ve even put it into rhyme

Hell, I’ve bled into these lines

Hell, I’ve felt alone and just cried

I mean, drinkin til I pass out

I mean, muzzlin my shouts

I mean, don’t even ask me how’s

Thinkin I was dead before you knew me

Thinkin there’s no saving, I’ve been too deep

Thinkin not even Death will accept me into its sleep

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