2Q2Q

I Am The Roachman

SINK

Dust Monkey

MAGIC TRICK

CYCLES

Tentacling

Mortifying

One step forward, 
That's a nail through the floorboards. 
The sole run through
Plunged deep; 
That's a thought-form. 

That's not me, 
Got him store bought.
Free sample sold it for me.
I was eatin-chalk-bored, 
White when I pushed against the limits of the script.
I was spittin' ash, seein' visions of a crypt. 
I was spillin' cash, 
Couldn't give a single shit, 
When the fuck I act's always when the missiles hit. 
Yo, anything I lack, 
Didn't need it in the first place. 
Relate. 
Yeah. 
Still do. 
Shruggin' off the mildew. 
Confused?
First dates. 
Barely been a worse place. 
Distaste. 

I been dirt. 
Baby, now my skin burns. 
Discern?
I'll just die, 
Couldn't give a fuck why, 
Disguise.

Big words 
Never really meant, 
It's a loop. 
Feedback.  
Echoes of an idea. 
It's clear

The knots twist. 
Tell em bro, I got this. 
The piss?

I just took. 

Look. 

It's a gas, 
And just that. 
Struggle under boots, 
My caboose. 

The bones ache. 
Goin' for a walk, 
Might come back. 

Might take flight! 
Migratory vibes on the wire,
The spark shot. 
Michael Jordan highs 'fore the drop.
The plug's gone. 
Wrong. 

It's right there. 
The drain's too big,
The sides bare. 
Swirl like a Junji Ito joint, 
With no point. 
I go boing~
And bounce off,
As gray as how the clouds got. 

That's a lot! 

Filtered through the vision of a dog
Or Hitchcock with no plot, 
Thoughts cut by the crop 
The screen square, 
Yeah I been there.

I been birds peckin' out the eyes on me. 
For the life of me I could never die properly.

2Q2Q

Go South