Bra on the chest,
sparkle glitter on the collar bone,
rocking down the street like she ain't got no other kinda home.
Ripped up, torn out, blows steam off of the microphone, and when's she's alone,
you can bet your diamonds and jewels she's all about sigh and moan.
Take it two seconds before she made the better scorn,
sizzling skin, bubbling, broiling from the source.
the heat immaculate to that of the devil's definition,
and hopes are swimming,
in a fire pool she made to play in.
---
FUCK coffee, the chemicals can only make your knees hurt,
or teeth look like dirt,
it's all about the astroturf.
Excuse me, may I bother you for another line?
Of what's that, sugar?
Well yeah that sounds just fine.
---
Where the fuck am I today?
Literally woke up about twenty minutes ago to a pile of some semen like substance all over the floor in my living room. Yeah, and it was brown with what appeared to be little chunks of bacon. Don't even fucking wonder about it, I've long given up the use of pondering. These people don't really...live in reality. Their house is just a nesting/hoarding ground they fill with garbage and...well, things very similar to the bacon brown cum. And it's been much worse on more than one occasion.
So, lately instead of over working myself to the point where I rip my skin off my own body, I've decided to smoke so much pot that I don't even have to think.
Therefore I don't worry about the condition of the house.
Therefore I live IN A FUCKING SHITHOLE.
I'm seriously losing my mind over this. Every time I get it scrubbed down and clean it takes them ten minutes to send it into chaos again.
I never want kids. Especially not a boy. God forbid, I live with three older ones now. They never really change.
