try dying, or wait trying,
'cause this body has been
ready for far too long.
it has, oh, it has been,
for far too fucking long,
and nobody else makes
else for else, and else,
it shouldn't have been
too long. else, it still
would have, no doubt,
and it's only a matter
of time, no clout will
ever be needed. i take
everything, even faded.
i'll let it live inside me,
and for many times,
not just once, i will get
to count nothingness,
oh, pay me less, you
should be grateful,
for i have nothing left.
is it just me craving rest
while i obsess living best
amongst breaking heads?
oh, please. just please.
just... please... don't need
no rioty bleeds, and if
i ever do just carry seeds,
don't mind me, please.
just do whatever else
your momma ceased.