Walk into my kitchen, see what I can make

Take these childhood memories

And mix them with countertop liquor

Throw some adolescent love in between

You’ll get the fucking mess that is me

Depressed and closed up, I don’t express well

Social outings, suicidal game of show and tell

I try to be normal but my intricacies don’t meld

Why can’t I be thirteen again, silenced

Behind welded doors, where I put my pain

With pen to paper, I write for today, not later

Because I might not last till the top of the hour

My sky, always cloudier and cloudier

I gravitate to silence, yet the sickness

is not devoured

I don’t get the chances to show my worth

Lost in a wilderness where I only know hurt

People say they don’t want me around

They don’t know the pop of the neck

When it’s being broken, when the sound

Of your dreams is louder than her moan

My dome’s off, the lights are on, I can’t be


I don’t rage endless like Eminem

But we’ve got similar minds

And I’m not on every bookshelf

But my soul’s moving lines

3 thoughts on “reckless

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