T.K.O.

Dying isn’t easy because,
You have to remain silent within a grave.
Gravel?
The blindfold from sun rays revealing a hideous face,
Worn to the point of no return while gazing into limbo.
From a window fogging up by blunts of endo as I get low…
Like,
The window next to me that’s been closed…
But I,
Understand how it’s my consequence for snooping into what-ifs I know!
Are only obstacles on a road I once thought to be improbable.
Sobriety as a Son once prodigal…

But,
It’s what I rather do!
Die and come back brand new!
And stand on business as a man distinguished in the eyes of many individuals!
Because,
With nothing by my side?
I have nothing to lose,
After all.
All I have is my faith,
A few games,
To console me while I’m boxed in over an X who joined her own clique to witness a different kind of space,
From a window I’m shooting shots at!
For the shot glasses,
And the pot handed to me any time I was low…

So!
What else am I to do,
But,
Murder everybody in a line I write with blood dripping from my finger tips?…
Silencers now that I’m on a path to reap bigger fish!
From an ocean my tears filled ever since I was just,
A little kid…
Just…
Crying for a hug and a kiss…
Not a jab,
Some blood on the corner of my lips and multiple gashes from leather whips,
My Mother caressed more often than I…