As I Crepitate
Why do you need actions, when you’ve got words, the business calls for messenger birds so the volume of my talent will be turned up loud to be heard.
I built a kingdom out of my emotion, empire from platinum devotion, the horizon is clear, but dont show support to the transcendent, I have a gold bracelet that hangs near the slit on my wrist, the pen in my hand is my pendent. So when i took out my enemy, i put on my mask. Sip rage from a old rusty flask, are you offended when im indecent, or when i cause promiscuous syllables to connect. They used protection for sex, but never for their neck.
Diamonds arent forever, neither is ability, god is a sheep to my new facility, Time will tell whether my book will kill me, commit the act, slit my wrist, ill sterilize the wound with my piss. I wouldnt want my name to be infected, Jr. King will probably die before im twenty, the endeavor of my suicide note will be good and plenty, kind of funny, bestseller, tear jerker like ol’ yeller. Hopefully you wont have to see, the gruesome end that may become of me. I carved constellations on my arm as a giddy sign, i was supposed to wait my learn as the hypocrite snorted up the line
My hand keeps shaking, my house is godforsaken, burning and i contemplated life as the doom is concerning. Light switched, my hand twitched, as i watched a wrestling match. Masculinity, i matched it with a mild obscenity, you say my skill is just ok then i invite you to my world, come and see. I vomit potential, shit brilliance, everybody i talk to lives in the delusional world where everyday there will be an opportunity thats new, I destroy paper and trace back the Sesame Street Reject that you blew. I had an emotional coup, regret of a drunken tattoo, i keep repeating do or die, but i cant decide what to do!
The damned rage you never heard me spew, the constant fear always grew, as i look at the very perfection of you. Im hateful, im very raw, set fire to anything positive, This is War. I picked the wrong door, but my masterpiece has the class of Roger Moore. But im a bum, nobody joined my event, because im a bum. If i could get more, id bend over, eat leftovers, do a striptease, if it would warrant change, id bake a cake a say pretty please. I could open my stomach, do a dog trick, watch a Ron Howard Flick, Im so hurt, im so sick
Ill harmonize with hell, mean Nasty, dastardly, my interpretation of william tell would never sell. I climbed so high to overcome, now to see im still a bum. Schizophrenic whispers into my ear drum, im not mentally ill its just these pills, im not a sadist, but this words will kill. Writing obscenities into poems because i lost my dignity, I harm myself almost every night…because i lost my my identity, I dug myself a grave at the Red Cross, to signify that I gave. The world play of that boy Anthony Day, began with Daddy’s Gone, then it evolved to a lovelorn plea for somebody to baby me. My mom and Dad argue, it makes me laugh, Im doing a Musical of Cannibal holucast, so ill open my mouth and you can insert the staff, I want to shoot for the moon, but im sure its to soon, ill get lost. Ill damage a house, then have to figure out how much it will cost. I burn their house, bricks to toss, go to Jail, my cellmate and I will play Who’s the Boss! I want to Finally finish my masterpiece to Crepitate, graffiti and symbols are signs of the jungle, ill stay nimble. Decimate, Destroy, Let me to prove to you that ill never find joy, ill live and die as this cold hearted bitchy Boy