I HATE MONDAY

I don't want to fuck your face.

I want to wrap my dick around your throat and choke you.

I slapped a deadman in the face with his own hand and loughed out loud,

self-awareness on a level you couldn't possibly conceive.

It's not the weed or all the bullshit i read.

It's the fucking disillusionment and suffering of every living being.

The sixteen aspects of the four noble failures,

spend your life with tears in your eyes, complaining endlessly.

My smile invites suspicion as life sucks like a leech.

I'm giving up my ego, my desire, my vanity all to fill one tiny weed.

To spread open my ass and shit on your dreams...