Bitter-Sweet Dreams and Jokes

If this is foreplay it’s my very first time,
i really don’t know what i am doing,
my subconscious is guiding the way,
about what to write and keep spewing.

my sub is who you really want to know,
patterns of behavior are very revealing,
looking at mine you’ll see static and fuzz,
the real behind the rhyme is rapidly declining.

everyone rarely gives more than their song,
when they do it’s only the extra script scraps,
this has been going on for so very too long,
constantly running below empty and hitting all the traps.

they have been crawling and pleading at my fleet since i was little 15,
i’ve never learned how or why it’s necessary to try too hard and pursue,
getting hotter is unwanted because my life is a grueling nightmarish dream,
what is the use if at the very end for me are only your two kinds of screw.

there is no time or energy to give because there is nothing left to lose or risk,
where ever i go havoc quickly follows by doing nothing but being my good self,
taking requests with reckless abandon with nobody watching out for my big six,
training day is over with the final approaching and i’m on a loosing streak delph.

my near future is dismal and bleek like this longer than you can surmise,
when i think of coming close it makes me whence shutter and spew,
being the object of someones eyes has always led to my rapid demise,
this is all about me with the damon and nothing much to do with you.

dreams and jokes left long ago and were replaced with pain and denial,
my scars shine brightly for all to see so they can aim for the target clearly,
pasting is a ghost i can clearly see much more than every once in a while,
the sweetness you sense is bitter-sweet at best and delicious & austerely.

i am an expert at not getting off,
have five years of sea time to prove it,
my mind controls body and won’t let you doff,
this beginning banter has certainly begun to move it.

 




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