No ratings.
Just verbal vomit |
I keep on trying to figure it out Figure out what my mind wants me to be about Confused as fuck Every day I wake up, not knowing if today I'll escape out Make it out from the inner cell I incarcerated myself in Within the depths of my own head, soul locked tight Mad at my own self because I watched the bricks build the wall Bricks made of pain, lies and deception Indestructible, cemented and mortared As I murder myself slowly leaking poison into my own heart Watching from the outside in, my own life playing like a movie on a dimmed screen No one in the projector room to stop, pause, rewind, erase, replace, or resume Can't edit this shit Every scene, every chapter plays out and I try to yell at the producer to change out Change the scene, change the script, change the dialogue. Who's the actor, he's garbage, you got to change him out Who's the writer so I can knock him out Snuff film style, that's what I'm talking about Damn, the main character resembles me, except they haven't let me out So what the fuck am I watching, this aint nothing like the movie "Get Out" Why can't I move, speak or listen, like it was silenced out. I see my the lips moving but I can't make shit out Flash bang resonating in my own head, bells ringing the toll of my last hour Guess I'll just wake up and stop dreaming of the memories and just shower Wash the sweat from my nightmare blend it with the hard water the head lets out I fear being awake as much as I fear my own slumber I can watch and not move from under my cover Head and feet left out But still I feel suffocated not enough air, can't breathe out of my nose and mouth Oscar nomination for douche bag, I hear my name called out With acceptance and gratitude I try to respectfully bow out But the crowd won't let me "Get your deserved award" they yell out The two masks in the background look the same Neither one is laughing just crying, now the spotlight zeroes in How did they found out? Truman show, but I can't Jim Carey this out They're all just watching mumbling under their breath So should I lash out, forget who I am again and give them what they want Lash out Stop giving a fuck, don't care what time is left and cuz at the end all time runs out? Or should I give them a good show because that what I've always been about Entertain them enough so they never ask for the truth of who I am and what I'm about Na, fuck'em , they'll find another outlet for them to let out P.A. Vazquez 2018 |