Virulent

Banging out these rhymes with a ball peen hammer There is metal in these lines that ionized into a rap song Coughing into napkins is like airing exhaust Fair weathering these days because it all seems backwards And I have had it with this geriatric plight Of feeling like I'm father time around the innocent type Becoming euthymic after being counseled by the Same one who used to love me then closed the door on our life Without me. (Without me) Yeah, I like how that sounds That's how this autopilot feels when I'm out and about It's like I'm here but I'm not here if that makes any sense I just followed directions on how to disappear completely Delusions of grandeur after looking in mirrors I receive so many compliments but doubt their sincere What's real and what's not will appear when one's clock Stops rotating it's hands and then eventually stops I apologize for the mix up This virulent attempt was meant to be end all be all These pangs ring as a loud church bells Where each of the rings are so angelic they also bellow with growls The sounds mellowed me out. They avoided any incidents Like hanging off the precipice of cliffs while the wilderness Bewildered by repentance as coincidence would have it I continue all the habits that condemn me to the blacklist Plagued by the halo effect My horns have this charm where You can't say no to them You're intrigued from where they stem. You can look but can't touch When in doubt I pull them out as an intimidation tactic My bed rests under dream catchers so that they Catch extreme terrors in the night and expel them To hell where they dwell from instead of entering My head where they're welcome to build my everything As I write this letter I hope you it reaches you well There's still so much left to say That I haven't said I triangulate the pros and the cons The haves and have not's in accordance to what I've got And what I am yet to gain. Egocentricism can be This great big bane if you're planning to stake a claim Without becoming what they aim at or to someone who asks What gives you the right even when your ass is wearing hockey pads Stop me if it's obvious that I would be the folly in this plan To save myself significant embarrassment Shake this pop and open it up Then spray it away from the hands that are clutching on cups Missing to fill them up with the intention to deprive Any need there to imbibe where insides are dried up My eyeliners running due to tears and perspiration Which converts my vision black and leaves a burning sensation Getting closer to God while volatile towards Satan And I'm in the continuum's middle Now I wrote this letter I hope you it reached you well There's still so much left to say That I haven't said