A Slow Walk On Baker Street

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

So now?


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

Rollercoaster trip

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…

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