day 4, quarantine
sun shining lazily,
hazy
times flows unabated,
fuck platonic dialogues
im still chasing
still waiting
contemplating routes of escapes
but the rues look the same,
empty,

been lonely since october
been trapped like haematomas
still tryna dodge corona

and this pandemic epidemic to this 73m2
tryna craft a better me
with yoga
and trips to the 93 franprix,
with headwrap musky
scalp greased,
im moneyless
these banks dont trust me

i still wrestle with this apathy
isaac staring down stairs,
demons tryna body me
i lost grip on reality,
for a while my nib like a lost rib,
so i walk these paths alone
just leaning on my vices
my cain is just a snake
never abel to forget past shame
im estranged in foreign plaines
tryna prophecy a better way

id hoped
wished
dreamed
maybe you’d see i was all about doing it naturally
explains why we were fucking
cutting
mucking around
and i left,
a ghost as always

i sparked flames with tinder
and of course I had my faults
notes as long a list as Schindlers

i pined interest pinned to your chest wishing the days away
saw tears when we left
gripped chest,
heart bereft
fleeing
i guess,
running away to be the child you knew best

now im here,
stressed in a city of bright lights
bar fights and vibrant lilac neon strips give tips for baccy
a place I thought i could to be happy
for a while at (least)

now im here,
attracting masses of stares like a priest in montmatre
wonder when the fuck this all started
thought being sad was temporary
like fireflies
time flies
flitting
quite
befitting really
the fake was all I saw

now i see more flaws in this diamond
all fours when we lying bout not actually giving a fuck about our star signs

the bell tolls too soon
bridged between the shrooms
room to be me
to be the man you see on tv
hopefully one i day might
acheive it

and its sunday,
mourning
im falling, different,
entirely splitting
missing days gone before
4/4 a door to d’or,
face faces floor
flaws ripple on seashores
and i clawed at the gates of hell

if sisyphus that bold why the boulder roll over shoulder
im colder than february mornings
crisper than november sunlight
so we stay gorgeous

stalking under sour moonrise
still searching for the limelight