Night’s Uncertain

I rather not lie like your neighborhood preacher,
Screaming for peace,
But,
Unable to deter demons creeping against my pool of tears,
I dive in feet first while I sip drinks underneath a chandelier,
I’m not perfect…

Within these verses,
I am not certain that I will make it out alive,
As I shower amongst waterfalls.
A representation of how I feel in the inside…

I don’t care about Trump.
I rather trump that hater shit with love,
And bust,
A couple lines open when I crush on a white girl or two.
Fuck everybody trying to make me feel blue, When I’m red in the face every time I’m with my nephew…

I’m already angry as he’s by my side.
I see him and remind myself that I can’t provide.
Food.
School supplies,
Some clothes so he can look right.
So,
I write.
Blood,
Sweat,
Tears.
Letting go of everything I’ve ever feared just toto be somebody.
I’m tired of crying…

Anxious all the time fighting with emotions seemingly impossible to overcome.
I don’t want to sit in silence contemplating suicide inside of my mind,
Overrun by thoughts of not wanting to exist…
What do I do?
On most nights I never know what kind of steel to use.
Either kill a bar or kill myself,
With all this pain I dealt,
All this pain I’ve felt,
Against the grain of all the hope I’ve belched!?
I’m confused…

I’m confused,
Because,
Others claim I’m this good man,
But,
Never really show me.
So,
I can’t understand what it means to look in the mirror and love what I see…
And that’s hurtful…

Tears currently fall as I write these lines in rehearsal,
To wave my talents up against the sky and be the best version of me,
A complete reversal,
But I’m drowning by the current flow of things…

I don’t know what’s real anymore.
I’m here,
But I’m not when I drink spirits.
A ghost in a shell animated over this division,
Of myself and the person I used to love…
I seem to be diehard over break ups like demi and willis.
I’m itching for freedom to come back this minute!
I’m trapped…
By a page and a pen in hand…

I’m tired of struggling,
Tussling,
Tugging at a fucking puzzle I can’t solve on my best days,
Why am I here!?
Why am I here!?
Tell me,
Why the fuck am I here!?
Underneath a chandelier I’ve conjured.
Hennessy palmed choking my sobriety,
While I press this imposter!
Gun to neck,
Knife to chest.
Putting heads to rest…
But,
I never pull the trigger…
On nights where…

The devil stomps.
(Dum, dum dum)!
Drums go,
(Bum Bum Bum)!
He comes,
Close!
Close!
Closer with a loaded,
Holster,
As I duck!
Still I get grazed
By the red flames.
But I!
Erupt!
And burn the heathen with his own fire,
As I drop my drink and desire!
Better times for myself to inspire,
Those who drive and crash to keep rapping through the wire…

I attempted suicide twice,
I’m still here.
So,
There must be a purpose for my being.
If death wasn’t the end to all my problems,
I guess someone’s certain I’ll succeed,
As long as I steer far,
Far away from Rock Bottom…

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