xiii. fckd

got home at five in the morning
i asked if you were awake but i could hear you snoring
and all my distant fantasies gather around taunting me
“honey, you’ve got a big storm coming”

now i’m fucked up on adrenaline
fucked up on adderall
i fucked up on my way to work
i fucked up and i called them all
cause i’m a self effacing pageant kid
victimizing my talent

i’m fucked up by tequila shots
fucked up by these racing thoughts
it’s fucked up that you thought of me
it’s fucked up that i fucked again

i’ll smoke this last damn cigarette
one more time, just one more line
i’ll smoke this with my bloody eyes
i swear i’m fine, it’s allergies

and i’ll take myself straight to bed
on vomit covered carpet
and i’ll tell you all the things i did
only what i can recollect

condolences and single apartments
i pray for hope like a scarlet letter
to repulse the public with the dreams i had
of living dead and knowing self

in my skull crushed brain i’ll think of you
the me that i’m perceived to be
fucked up again on herbal tea
screaming out the window
i did this all for me!