137 (usa) - and bleating in harmony lyrics
i kneel by the steam
my cuts and abrasions i clean
i peer at reflection in water
and reflect on what i gleaned
with a gleam, in my smile, as i bleed
i keep my feet planted in the doorway
of my opportunities
maybe they will crush my toes
but i will rise, from bl++dy knees
i was recently informed
an old schoolmate died yesterday
reaper likes to remind me
a fickle flower blooms in may
waiting, for the skeletons
to walk, right out my closet
i got no way to stop it
they’re hungry for my throne
i, know my days are numbered
on ethereal fingers
so imma taste that honey
afore he’s out of hands
or i succumb to stingers
flipping tables of the dilettantes
that peddle at my father’s temple
at the crossroads
with a man, wearing tweed
i’ve a pen oar for life’s rapids
for sewing, i’ve a thimble
it’s amazing what’s unlocked
when you do close your eyes to see
i scanned myself with price gun
to see how much i’m worth
and it turns out
i’m just enough to satiate the dearth
we’re all serpents in another’s garden
bearing sins, buddha, wouldn’t pardon
race do some with blinders donned
to crowd they’re sightless, but same burden
sacrifice for your consumption
you can call me christmas ham
peering at reflection
affliction reminds me who i am
i don’t need to drink whilst in my throes
’cause craft’s a drug to me
also mind could build connection
‘tween liquid and misery
even if i swigged every second of every day
seas of liquor couldn’t hope to strip dark thoughts away
taking deep breaths
while pondering the lands i’ve left to conquer
air that meets my lungs responds
“you’ve always known the answer”
blue sky
but i know of clouds’ predilections
lucid depictions, given by
the storm that’s seeks my home
and now my
life has made me, fain to ponder
what is the craft to me
i know it is a question, many of you wonder
to cover bases, i’ll need apophasis
more than the stack that i learned for coding
more than the sweat that i shed on the hill and the track
or the pain that i felt to be king of the pack
success—a canyon—and i keep eroding
gotta roll the dice, for the chance at paradise
cutman with a bag of ice
and cornerman yelling from the ringside
“if you really want the gold, sacrifice”
told i’m g.o.a.t. with world to alter
i say i’m goat upon the altar
so i need more than l+st could conjure
more than material could bolster
i’m no proponent of the trigger
but there are weapons you can’t holster
that’s why i turn my sight much higher
’cause i need more than life could muster
feel the groove
let the beat move through your feet
i feel the groove
of the blade as it punctures me
it’s, more than the sweat
yes, it’s more than the tears
not just enduring the sneers
nor inuring to leers
more than bruises on the mat
or the time apart from family
i know the effort that i give to it is an anomaly
you say, when i’m famous
i, should remember thee
funny, how all the masses
want credit for artistry
i have
to remind myself the past isn’t gomorrah
i must
watch for bandits in the bushes like i’m dora
i see
the crimson skies from which is rained many cries
storm approaching
not sparing any fauna or flora
touched, the sun
afore it rose to sky
now you want credit for each dawn
want your name written on horizon
for cheering on sunrise from lawn
the ancients thought the sun was close
and present humans feed that lie
they bathe in the warmth of a star
and feel it’s close by
doesn’t matter if you were my roommate
unless you were my wombmate
please don’t tell me you were with me since day one
alright mate
it’s not that you’re late
it’s just that you can show up early to the coroner’s office
cadaver’s heart won’t palpitate
you’re here for me now
i believe that’s what’s important
but if you are expecting accolades
watching gladiator from the stands
shouts of glee for bl++dy blades
hope you understand that you’ll be truly disappointed
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