conflicting visions and closing walls
if this floor could talk
it would tell you to
get the fuck off
a mess of skin and sin
a room of misuse
too many faces to register
and I hate you
I hate you.
lost in late night crawls
spitting game for the sake of spitting game
you know you won’t gain
anything
this city is a sentencing
you’re doomed to go it alone
one night to forget your life
and tomorrow it’s back to the grind.
in search of the stairs
I want the fuck out of here
this room is diseased
and I just want to leave
caught in the current
of rhythm and intent
the deep heaving breaths
this life looks like death
and I don’t want it
I want nothing to do
with this fucking room
and I want nothing to do
with any of you.
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