fags, drugs, dads, and bugs

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Said "my sons a fag"
but you're my dad,
aren't you supposed to love me?

What a fine, divine dream
a silly thing - to be so
full of wishful thinking

he only gets worse when drinking!

I'm just a kid
i'm just a head-
ahead of you
and all of your toxicity.

All of those stupid things
you think are true
without any reason to-
as to why you have to hate
a kid just trying to date
the men that he loves.

You're so full of bugs,
they fall from your spitting mouth
and bury themselves inside our house,
one by one,
we constantly have to clean them up-

don't you see,
all the ways that you destroyed me?

I'm burning and burning up
above the clouds and the drugs
you ceaselessly breathe

and if there was a way,
a time and a place
i would surely demand
an instant of clarity

but between all the bugs,
the whiskey and drugs,
the fags and their dads,
i've got nothing
no one
not a thing to lift me up.

I'm so alone,
i'm screaming these lyrics into my phone-

don't you see,
all the ways you helped bury me?

I'm spitting and spitting up
every single one of your dreams,
because they're not worth much
just like your lack of love.

So i'll just stay here
all alone
inside of my homeless home

because here
at least i don't have to be in fear
of the dads with their fags,
and the drugs that you have,
or the bugs that you gag.

They'll consume you
just like they ate me, too
so you shouldn't be so glad
just yet

soon you'll be dead-
i'll lend you my head
and maybe you'll see,
all the ways you killed me.

red-stained fingertipsWhere stories live. Discover now