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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Personal · #2121309
long poem-rap about the mental effects of medication on myself
call the boys in, i’ve found the right poisons, been told that it deploys in my blood to end the paranoia, feel like i’m boiling and spoiling as i’m voicing my joyful noises, feeling frozen and joining the royal loyalty

give me the fucking cyanide to take me on a joyride back to where i reside, outside the shack of rawhide at the seaside to avoid both the dark side and the light side, but there’s a division on the inside, and to both split more and conjoin them they decide to misguide and provide while i wait for the venom to subside, but without it i feel untied, and with it or without i feel there is no upside, and this thought leaves me terribly horrified, wishing i could just be certifiably nullified and fortified, but still they i feel homicide is glorified and justified, melon fucking occupied and modified, leaving me mystified with a desire to be purified and simplified, jus like jekyll and hyde, dissatisfied and diversified while the noise is intensified, leaving me disqualified, feeling like rage personified, about ready to fucking ignite the turpentine, paralyzed to the mastermind as he blows the dynamite, denying that my life is finite and that i’m going to expire, want to be alive forever, lemniscate lifetime, hate what i’ve been prescribed, tonight at midnight is the prime time to bust the pipeline to my mind’s eye, blow my thought sky-high to the satellites.
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