Ventilation

I don't know why, I always find myself dying deep inside the hole of life but trying to be alive, at the same time with the same rhyme I just keep writing in this book of lies that I'm disguising triple the score, I'll be sippin' the scorned rippin' the torn, livin' in vivid, sick'n twisted for more stickin' a piston incision to form in sickness to born from weakened wit with a bored grin to bein' this kid who's sore with the morbid I say this Like I don't know it's mazin' putting me ashore with the fourty for clickin' with a clique or four ****'s given, if I'm givin' this and stored in a more simple storage horsin' around with the thoughts of a clown I've been a frown, but I've turned up right corny like a veggie but if I let the bull ram to my whole body's jet stream, letting it take a toll, so bad like breakin' a bowl and watchin' it shatter to the floor, slowly empty even though when we glue the pieces close, we can sew it like needle knows, we can close what we can see and if I don't let the fan breathe I will never plan, we can stand here and act like what we just can't be, a ghost but everyday walkin' like a cause and effecting everything you think it never lowers for whenever you're ever lower than low for sure, for show, it's a walkin' smile that we possess and yes we let the most stress be guests just to forget whenever the rest is said, but that's no end to a vent of vent's to vent' let it be told, the old saying say's even to this day we make up a saying just to say it hopin' they can relate to its greatness sayin' it for ages, they just might rearrange it's little phrases