Maniacal laughter, scary to experience.
At least it lets me know that these thoughts were delirious.
Matter of fact is, I was feeling something serious,
but if it was all a joke to you, then my only query is,
Did it feel queer when you invited me to your bed?
Infecting someone with a love for life.
Instead, no.
Hold your tongue, it never brought the answers I needed.
So yes, I have conceded, admitted defeat.
And the only cost to you is a honest hand.
So let that shake out when you feel the touch of another man.
Women wonder why they're walked on like floors,
and I can only blame the automatic doors at drug stores.
This is the mindset that's been attained in dorms.
So I conform to the norm. Here's the calm before the storm.
I'm sipping from a cylinder of bad decisions.
Watch her defy gravity on a cylinder for pension.
Failed to mention this decision on my social medias
I felt the lie of freedom buzz, learned on Wikipedia.
Look it up, I'm not in it for ass,
or grass I'd pass for a moment of something real.
Fate is sealed, concealed by a dirty devil deal.
Welcome to Deek's delirium. Sarcasm is just skin peeled.
Planted, harvested from a pride field, and turned into the weapons of the heart that we all wield.
I reside, I arrive, I come, I go.
Slow mo like pro photo shoots.
Brought down the last girl with a strumming of my lute.
Truth, reboot, restart my red mind.
The crime scene of a fine dime left heartless over FaceTime.
You felt destroyed, like a hate crime.
Well, I only hate your personality. You gave me a fatality.
I responded appropriately by connecting to my animality.
Snap back to reality.
There goes Deek, quiet man with indoor soccer cleats, Samba.
Speak nonsense in a melancholy posture.
Natural disaster, fostered by a honest heart.
Drunken calls, unleash a storm to sink Noah's Ark.
I carve my raft from the bones of the girls I did the same to.
Hypocrisy chases me to blame you. It's not true.
We're all victims, and fascinated crimsons of the things we wish we could've been if we had chased wisdom.