angels are
oh I feel that crazy
a’creepin on me
things are gettin hazy
gettin hard to see
oh I feel that satan
tryna tell me wrong
that fella’s good at talkin
sings a pretty song
oh I feel that hatred
swallowin my guts
fight what’s on the inside
that’s how you go nuts
there’s a way
a door, a door
but I can’t find
the way no more
fuck my inhibitions
fuck my childhood too
fuck my gentle nature
do what sadists do
today we kill
tomorrow we maim
this week we bomb
a people train
let’s be the best
at being worse
we’re nothing but
live liverwurst
to shoot to score
to be a whore
to live to die
don’t fucking cry
it’s only another few days mama
we’ve only got this to behave mama
we can’t escape we are slaves mama
we’re children of angels
cuz angels are good
and angels are bad
and angels are–
Fresh Hell 
Having a tough day? Or is this a halloween thing going on here?
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This one was written on a tough day…
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I hope it got better 🙂
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Oh yes. 100% sane again! Well… maybe more like… 75… I’m pretty tired so 50… Anyway it’s not at 12% like it was that day! 😉
I’m just being silly, I’m fine. I allow myself to get really melodramatic in my poems. Thank you for asking ❤️❤️❤️
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Melodramatic is soooo good! It lets all that crap out – as they say, better out than in 🙂 I trust your weekend will be awesome
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I’m sure it will. Planning a fall colors hike! Much excite! What about you? Fun stuff?
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Nothing special planned. We always host happy hour on a Saturday for neighbours and friends. Usually a small handful. And a leisurely sleep in/brunch on Sunday.
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That sounds like great fun! There’s something wonderful about having a place to go every Saturday just to eat and talk.
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