My thoughts run wild as I lay here thinking/ overthinking/ numbing/ regrouping/ rebuilding. It’s tough I know my mind is rough I have seen things I don’t speak of. Scars hold me that I tried to rub off, yet time seems to warm me that’s what I’m made of. Til too. Screaming won’t help silence won’t heal, all I ask is the Lord keeps me near. It’s the distance that I fear.
Calling me into darkness I have forgotten who I am, what I was, and where I began “you wasn’t raised like that” as you point your finga’ but I believe you don’t know me like [I] have seen plenty of triggas. Love is a hard subject when it’s rusted and not complex is something inside you still yearns for it. Life is living yet I feel Dead music will save me and I know that.
Thoughts from the underground