Days of Death

Ive been lonely for 333 days. I cant find my way so I go get McDonalds. Eat it and throw it back in the bag turn on the TV and just sag. Where I’m at I jus don no. My world jus stopped I got no flow where you at cause I’m there 3 seconds flat but you’re not comin back I can’t embrace the fact. In fact I would throw you in a sack you’d be my own personal pack id drink you up shota vodka in my tea cup. So I’m crazy, so what? I’m so crazy it amazes me smokin till my house is hazy and my eye drapes all lazy gone and never comin the bullet went right to her head. This is what I dream in bed: mother *er you killed my wife now im gonna take your mother *in life. I hit him so hard he fell to the floor he reached for the door, but I kicked him like a football punt and now his butt is sore, then I took a blunt aimed down low a worse than death blow, but then I wake for goodness sake, the TV’s still on and the pussy is one.