Undeserving.

I got something that my dad don't got; strong booze when the last hit struck. A certain drink for a punchline with no joke on fight nights. Going on karaoke explaining pitches to bitches. Trying to explain the name of my band; I am what I am.


So it's exciting catching my hand writing. Catching my art as it drips off my lips; jerking off till my dick hurts. I have these emotional problems that come in big outbursts. It's not if, but when my ship sinks, I'll give you a hands on tour. So hold your breath as I cup your little breast. Still thinking of the times when things didn't hurt as much; it's time that I give into my monster and do those things as such: a pornographic house party while I'm still living in your body on your computer screen.


I'm shouting for things that don't exist. A god to be my fan. A fan to blow my way. Even though I haven't felt it in years, I'm sure my eyes will keep looking everywhere for a way back to that night. A diseased mind going out of its way to relive a traumatizing a night; a jealous boyfriend hoping to figure out what to say what's right.


I got no clothes to cover these scars, and I got no skin to cover up these bruises. A fight with someone you love is a fight that loses. When I wake up with the bottle, I'm trying to find the cap. I need a top to put on this dead man with a face turned red. He looked to me, and said "Place me beside someone who cares."