It’s been a while, and I don’t even know how it got this far. Red dotted seats In front of me, as I digest my wildest thoughts. Clouded judgment, so disgusted. Grave, wait, patience!
Platform changing, mind straight racing, heart aching. Back to these train journeys thinking, imagining, believing. That with a willow off hope, direction will change my life. The path to success holds many ways, stuck, conflicted doing things the normal way
I can’t believe I made mistakes, I lost weight. Struggling to depart, it’s love hate. Relationship goals
I must date?
Faithful, I could say
I’m loyal, I’m Georgia
Dealt with a couple whites, I must say?
Poor to the core
Can you really blame?
What really can you say?
When you’re struggling up at night
Living multiple different lives
Still trying to be the same kinda guy
Worse thing I could do to my life
I hope you are who you say you are?
Have we taken things to far?
But still this excruciating pain
To a whole different mistake
Twice in two days
It could’ve been the same
Black and white tiles reminiscent
But still a creature of habit
I’m back to doing a madness
Bagging, writing and trapping
Fuck it let me throw in them library zoots
As it happens
To many breaks its insane
So I’m thankful for this madness
Some days I turn back
Writing Trying to connect
I guess I should be dying then?
Soo I’m pouring out my heart on these black and white tiles
As these tears just fall aloud
All about this teary ride
I’m dropping pieces to the puzzle
Out here stuck up in a puddle
It’s all a maze
Overtly showing pain, covertly hiding all my shame
Just a shadow of a doubt
Sun beaming, but they still calling for some clouds
Loud mess, somewhat a sexual prowess
Stuck in a state of two minds
Fishing in neglect and drowning in sorrows
Took me from a happy lad to a mad man
You’d have thought I had a gastric band
Looking up to hatrick men
In a shadow, but still in a league of my own
So the dark night rises again
Two fingers now time can begin
Forgot this life I am living is a sin
Practicing hoping I could win
Practicing striving to mend my broken heart
Three pieces 180 and a broken dart
Bullseyes and some Arts
Mikaelsons a fresh start
No more talking in code, just writing to offload. All this pain that’s unfold. Struggling feeling cold.
Too many stories untold…
To be continued…