I might just be here till close

A wolf, I blow the whole house down

I might just keep my old clothes, when I'm up

Just to remind to not come down

I wake up at the sun down

from like 5, not just one town.

I like snap backs as my crown

Fuck, I'm gonna have to come back to this one

ROLLOUT

THANKS NUMBER 5

Don't forget to collect the doubles

Just past halftime

Can't nobody score on me

I'ma move in one ‘em

Guess I gotta wait I gotta owe em

You don't one me

You don't wanna know

Why I don't get lonely

Go to sleep on only

When I'm post workout

Show me something

Show me something in

I wanna meet your producer

You beautiful honey

But his bass is ruthless

My old man a loser

I call him useless

I only use him for two things

The first one was training my toothless

Truth is,

Simpletons get ditched for

Singletons

More on that later

That is a good story

Lol

LIL BIIIIITX

this is something I don't understand

My latest roommate

Fuck this bitch

But honestly?

It's been baffling my mind.

This bitch.

Fuck this bitch.

But the thing is—

It really does blow my mind

Every single time she uses the toilet

Every single fucking time.

Like every time..

no matter how clean it is.

No matter how much BLEACH I use.

This nasty bitch—

Fuck this bitch—

Because every time she uses the toilet

Every single time

It smells like a goddamn public restroom

Not just a public restroom

A GODDAMN public restroom.

Like, a public restroom that is GODDAMNED.

This bitch bitch pussy

Fuck this bitch

I don't even say bless you when she sneezes

She's always snorting in her fucking mucous and coughing, anyway.

The bitch is like a walking fucking disease.

*coughs*

*snorts*

When she sneezes I can't even bring myself to say “bless you” when she sneezes.

And that's deep.

Because I say “bless you” to random strangers in the train.

Granted, I don't have to live with strangers in the train.

But my point is, I'm a pretty easy going, polite and well mannered person

But not with this bitch.

Fuck this bitch.

When she sneezes, instead of saying “bless you” out loud to her, I think instead quietly to myself and my God

“Bless me, please!”

Because I am praying every moment of every day that God hears my prayers and comes up with some kind of conventional way to swiftly and mercifully change this situation I'm in that has lead to me being around her.

Fuck this bitch.

Her vibe is NASTY.

Her demon is big and gross,

She brings like a fucking shadow with her when she walks in the room that just coughs and snorts mucous.

I'm like “gross”

But the grossest thing about her

Is her pussy.

Because every single fucking time she uses the toilet

And then I go to use it

It srmells like a public restroom.

WHAT,

I'm not kidding.

It doesn't just smell like a dirty pussy

It doesn't even smell like the stinkiest kissy in the world—

No,

It doesn't just smell like one pussy at all!

It smells like a PUBLIC RESTROOM.

It smells as if MULTIPLE PEOPLE have used this toilet repeatedly without it ever having been cleaned

I'm JUST ONE USE.

I'm like

“This is atrocious” and kind of amazing because

HOW do you DO this.

It smells like a PUBLIC RESTROOM.

JUST ONE USE,

And not just like a regular public restroom.

Like the public restroom in a bar that got SHUT DOWN

FOR HEALTH REASONS —

Six years ago.

But people still come back—

Just to use this restroom.

That's what it smells like.

I'm like…lady what the fuck lives inside you.

What or WHO.

This bitch.

Fuck this bitch.

I'm like—

Fuck it all.

Fuck the RULES.

I will burn every last bit of sage trying to protect myself from whatever gross fucking disgusting demonic nightmare energy

Lives in your pussy.

You fucking gross ass—fucking lady.

Fuck this bitch.

I wanted to know what kind of demon this was, actually;

So. Of course I found out.

But I found out the hard way.

One day she calls out of work

Leaves very beifly,

Comes back—

Then sleeps for like 16 hours.

I'm like

“Oh, I know this one”

That's not a demon that's—

That's actually Satan you let crawl and live inside of you,

That's the devil.

I feel a lot better now.

Cause now I know—

She can't hurt me.

Cause Satan ain't shit.

But yo.

That Pusey is a whole other scenario.

So now that I know it's no big deal

It's just-you know—like—the devil

—bitch ass devil—

Pusssy stinkin ass bitch—

Fuck that bitch

I'm already like, a whole ass psycho.

What I did—

Is I just—

Cleaned the toilet with her summer's eve.

*shrugs*

That should do the trick.

Imm pretty sure she's an undercover

Yeah, probably that.

These guys are getting pretty good

I wonder what they want

Idk

I stopped caring.

Stitches

Shawn Mendez

So I know the using the heater as a psychological means of torture isn't exactly ethical

But she said she likes the heat.

And her coughing and snorting is also a form of psychological torture—

So I guess we're even.

She gets to live her dirty, nasty smoking ass in a sparkling clean, recently renovated hotel room

And I'll stay up all night with the lights and heater on doing what I have to do to try not to kill myself.

It's been 5 years with coughing people following me around.

It's either an extremely advanced computer system using technology controlled by the us government using cellphones as remote controls—

Or the actual, literal devil trying to make me kill myself—

Well, the way I figure—

Either way, it's the devil.

Cause it's a truly evil thing to have to deal with synesthesia in a world which demands our eyes and ears and punishes rather than rewards talent, only seems to seek money as a means to an end and will do just about anything to keep those who live in the lower realms in the lower realms forever and eternity—

But I've lived forever and it's been way past eternity,

I've lost everything and given up everything but my faith and my morals

My ethics are wavering on a sliding scale—

Good and bad are often just constructs.

So what's to say that if I finally seek to kill this coughing thing that's been following me since I left the only man I ever thought I truly loved that beat me into a psychotic spiral—

Is bad?

And what's to say what's good,

In a world where Good guys get eaten and often swallowed up?

I can't say.

But I also can't say “bless you” to a walking torture device—

And whatever it is,

Is also me.

So I am.

Maybe j am still as suicidal as I always was

15 minutes to close 15 minutes to 15 minutes of fame

I took a 1 to the 5 and a candle to flame

I just want to me famous enough

That my crazy makes sense

(Hey, Kanye)

I just want to play with The Mayor

I only saved the place

So I could DJ there

Maybe one day

Right now,

I hate my roommate

(Cause that's Satan)

He finds his way in by

Making your plate out of

(That's not nutrition)

And packs of Newport at

$22.00 a carton

That guy might have a hard on for me

Cause I got my heart on the windowsill

Imm at 20 yards now,

About to make a pass on the cardinals.

I been finding crosses in odd enough places to think—

And I'm not even Christian or religious at all, but

Jesus is in his way back for us,

Thangk God, cause

I kinda missed my big brother

(Or little one)

Twins, you know

As if it matters who came first,

When once,

We shared a home,

(A womb, or, a mother)

The both of us

My 15 minutes is almost up,

But here it comes again

And then again,

I'm in it

(Cause it's infinite.)

It's 10:50/51

I guess I turned that curse around, huh

All of my roommates have been spies,

It seems like

What do you think they want

Probably just—collecting information about me

For what.

In case I decide to run for office; so they'd have something to use against me

Why might that be?

Some dumb shit I said on a cherry bomb after my ex husband hit me.

I see.

It'd sooner kill myaelf than actually even consider politics, actually:

And why might that be?

Because, If I run for office, someone else will kill me anyway.

That's not certain.

Oh trust me—-that's the only certainty I've ever even seen.

[The Festival Project.™]

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