What’s the mental in the pot

Something is cooking 

Unpolished and broken 

Smells awful

Mentally normal 

In the pot that’s boiling over 

Where’s the purple and blue

In this gray room 

The yogurt is sour 

Yet the grapes are cold 

Looked for the bougie 

While having this stuck up personality 

Praying and praying all day long 

Is making me greenly sick 

Dealing with this inconsistencies 

Selfish people is crumbling my heart 

Turning it black and giving me headaches 

This life is downing and my common sense is shattering 

I keep having suicidal thoughts 

Feeling fearful of being like my mom

She’s an weak person and don’t have a mind of her own 

Doing and following her demanding and insulting sister 

Cause she’s the female wolf 

What she say and my mom must do 

Cuz if not then the female wolf would always have something negative to say 

I can’t deal and I won’t 

What’s the mental in the pot is to not complain and talk to myself 

Tho google says it’s normal for me to talk to myself 

Since I don’t have any friends or a friend whom I could trust to hurt me physically 

Find something that’s affordable for me to live in 

Like living in an RV or apartment even better than that be homeless cuz that’s for free 

Freeing of options for the 4:51 am bedtime 

I am not the sun nor the moon

 the stars in the cocoon 

Where is the stream of hope love?

Are the angels of halos 

Are their wings are made of feathers and plaster?

What is purple and what is gold?

On the wheel of doom 

Where is the right path?

What is fear?

What happened when the light are dim 

When the healing works out of the mend 

What path is the right one for me 

Would I walk the path alone 

Or with someone to hold my hand 

As I walk the steps 

I am not the moon or the sun 

Just an plain observation of nothing 

Can’t believe in myself cause I haven’t been branch out into the world 

I’m not living and not even existing 

More just here out of protest and fear 

Even the stars around the moon 

Has an purpose or an goal 

I have dream too but without an action plan then the dreams that I have are tarnished by being caged in 

The lines of words are blurred

Buttering up the watermelon 

What’s the air in the balloon 

Is the old rags 

What’s safety and whats not?

When the words are blurred then where the truth?

Hollow minds and red lungs 

Broken minds and when the mind is broken then where the hollowness?

Diamond eyes and snake tongues would makes for a soft heart?

When the skin is red what happened to the burn?

Feel like an crumble up paper 

An grasp of anger and frustration 

Is patching up where the floor planks

Are up in the stuck sticky areas of 

Getting worked up over tired of being broken 

Where the line

Of words are still 

Where would the truth goes 

Where the bones are gun 

Nothing but the hurting of the blood which are usefulness of words 

Words has this neck of sticking around 

For the last impression of an deadly impact 

Contemplating things of all things 

Like to whether or not to commit suicide 

What would I miss about not living?

I’ll miss my grandma being the fact that I take care of her 

If I swallow a quarter then how would anyone notice me choking?

Would anyone care to help me?

Would my brothers cry at my funeral?

Would they just not attend?

Roasting up holes in lungs 

In the healing of the heart 

When it won’t process that no one wants it 

That the brain is overthinking to cash in my coin into an fountain of worthless  

Encouragement

He give me little encouragement 

But just to ghosted before I could say thank you 

Putting in dimes in rubber gloves 

Passing it off as judgement 

Feeling insignificant to boy’s talk 

Cause its all about laying up or get disapproval of their go to’s 

Life is low and so is my iPhone’s battery 

Yellow egg salad with cranberry caution 

This red alert is burying me in the dirt 

While I’m telling boys that I am down on my luck 

Just gave them an opening for an escape 

Feel like an stale crumble cookie 

Chocolate pudding stepped on 

Getting threatened by getting hit on 

Over nothing but an phone call 

There’s no love or respect in this home 

Where the windows are sealed

And the doors are locked inside 

With no key 

I dug up on an offer of being polite and obedient 

To filled an demand of all demands 

And yet still I get yelled at 

Hate the loud shrinking noise 

Of me getting recommended

Or restricted by being locked in an padded room with an door that has nothing on it 

Cause even the pad lock is lock 

I didn’t wake up for this nagging control of an mentally unstable mom 

Who nags me all day long when her mind is red but her lungs are blue yet speaking nothing but air 

Yelling nonsense to me can’t learn by 

When all I feel like I’m the wrong error of inputting rubbery and play words 

Into my hands 

Bubbles in my mouth yet feeling like Ophelia

As the water of life keeps drowning me in 

The dying sea 

Covering my face as I crawl through the sea and trying to grasp for air 

My mind is mad and I’m just sad 

The money spent on dr. Pepper and gum 

There’s no encouragement and if it is then it snakes off as fake 

Hung

Cold but the snow isn’t falling

There’s this smell of feeling small

Without even asking to be

I got hang out to dry

Saying that I need to be taught

Is laughable how to assumed

That about me

When I never asked you for your assumptions

The body of water

Dreaming of falling off an cliff

There’s this feeling of being someone’s problem

When I never wanted to be

I never asked you for your help

So why say that I need it now ?when I never did

Especially if the help is from a brother who I don’t care for

Don’t even like as a person

Cause his words are like snakes and his eye are always judging

But his mouth is always moving

Saying nonsense and always assuming

I couldn’t hang out the truth about the pink four walls

Nun is the truth when all I feel hung

With the life is dwell on and the wheel is spun off

What do I have? But nun but an tight rope to hang myself with

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Needles and Pills

Needles and pills 

An stab to the heart 

What’s the blur in the blue?

the sand is cold 

Green stars are on the ceiling 

Making them look like dollar signs 

Selling fish stockings for an small profit

Making doing with what I got 

Living off needles is the dream of 

Pink walls and four corners 

Pills are the forms of fun for the meds 

That people still do just to give their some of meaning 

Without meaning any harm 

The brain and heart are always in pain 

So take an short dose of purple and moonshine 

For saving on the groceries bill

Only buying sodas in cans 

Spaghetti in boxes 

Living for pills 

Shooting with needles 

Working without an income 

Selling are returning to sender 

Commenting on videos 

Is the statement of getting by 

But can’t make with doing life 

On my own 

Cause the volume is too loud 

The only excitement for me 

Is watching reality tv while 

Eating an burnt pancake 

But took an shot just for the pain 

Plastic on the window

Crushing blows
Hard lessons
To earned
Can’t get warm
Melted off the flame of the stem
Of the candle
Talk to a tree
For a friend
Live in an box
Cause living in a home
Is cold a Snowflake
Wrapping up in plastic
Selling cans for an five dollar meal
Looking for discounts for handbags
That’s plastic on the window
Soulmates are for the pearl of necklace
For worthy of the dollar
Eating like an hog
Looking like an log
Speaking in rubbish
Coughing up carrots
Looking for an seer
Burying the proctor
Cover in plaster
An heart in an jar
Feeling foolish for recommunicating
Talking always makes me stupid without any repairs
I prefer to shut my mouth
Cause whatever I speak no one cares
Hearing the sound of an garbage truck
So let me go to the dump
That’s how I feel always
Whenever I talk to an boy
Who wouldn’t or couldn’t
Care about me without any expectations
Or even an reason to
Snakes and people are just fake
Telling me that they are this way when they are the other way
No I don’t see any good in anyone
Cause they are all snakes with their venom minds
And evil eyes and devilshi intent

What’s the good in a deal

Planting seeds and having it to rain
Feeling gloomy in paradise
The horizon is breaking the deal
Books on books
While walking the magic is telling the untolded
Sleepy eyes and hollow minds
Are making sunrise at noon
The deal is good
But the moon is over the heel of batted scares
Dusted ways are parted for over shin waves
Time and money is at the mine
Painted their hands white and black
Dealing teeth and blood
Yet scraping off the jam
When the gums bleed
Tho I bleed to slow
Heaven oaks is the dove of the grey heart
swirling dark blue and pink
Falling of fallen in shallow
To the opening of windows
Sounds of the closing of doors
That my heart has been broken
When the sun had shin it’s sunset
Tired of going in and out of time
When time never would slow down for me
To ketchup to it
What’s the good of the deal
When an good deal is outdated
Written in red dust
In colorful rate
As the rainbow drys
And it’s color fades
The day grew into
I’m left buried purple and blue

What’s wake the screen

Whats in the bake
That makes me shake
Air is hot
The pot on the stove
Stones and crystals
Are in the garden
Rattling bags and bearing
Bread
What’s wake the screen
Are the quarks that earth makes
Sounds of the crashing
Screen shot and yellow is always baiting
Swimming in the sea of pink
Leather and silk
Is the skim
My mom is an pill of arguments and uncertainty
California is the shiny horizon
Wake the screen of purple flowers
Treating me as the problem and not the key
Can’t think on the sink
Can’t sank any lower then I feel
When I’m yelled at
There’s always an snake lurking
around the bleeding sun
What’s cracks the afterworld
Weaponize my words
Is like giving me meds that poison
Lurking me to my maker
Cause I am no believer
Facts and logic are in the same hand
For causing plans
For hard times
I’m the silence of the night
Witch of invisible
Blend in the scene
Unnoticed and unhear
By all
When the world is bleak
I begining to peek out of my shell
Just an tad bit
But I get spook then my shell is around the same brand
Of cracks formed into balloons with hollow breath
Lifting me into an better time with greater people then I
What’s wake the screen
Is this generation of unkept and unkindness
Wonder how people ever find love in the world of killers and kidnappers
Strangely where I won’t be an failure of living and not just existing
But living without any demands or restrictions