Escape (Fantasies of Self Harm)
My rage is knocking at the door in frequent social situations
I tell myself I've got a lid on it but these are not honest reflections
Every time I'm backed into small talk and forced to spit it out
I imagine pulling the trigger to a shotgun in my mouth
Standing in the shopping mall, Christmas songs blare in my ear
Consistently like clockwork for the 38th straight year
Consumer driven and brain washed, the result is compromising
Feel like an MK Ultra project, systemic dehumanising
Every time I stand in crowds, and listen to the chatter
I'm imagining that shotgun and covering the wall with my brain splatter
Alarm clock in the morning, another day ahead
How long 'till someone ticks me off, makes me wish that I were dead?
Get asked something about Brexit, now I literally can't cope
No one ever listens when I explain why I didn't vote
Every time I have to listen to this overly dogmatic tone
The shotgun blast blows my head off, so they'll just leave me alone
My rage knocks at the door in frequent social situations
My coping mechanism seems to be suicide imaginations
Every time I have to listen to some more beating of the drum
I'll imagine blowing my head off just to keep from feeling numb
- If you think I could help you produce articles, posts or poems... follow me and see if my content is something you can work with.
I've brought, traded and hodled crypto but I want to take a further step and support mainstream adoption through the process of earning and spending cryptocurrencies through the wider community.
Tip me!
BTC: 3Fzb1jh1updLjiPvJaGmQzSpKT3E21XMKU
ETH: 0x0E05Ab49E70F3110b8Ea3bc02a522E3f15B7AC59