Already left in the dust

Empty and alone

It's been a few months from then yet everything seemed to get worse we all used to live together in the same house the first 2 WHOLE FUCKING WEEKS I was stuck on the streets of Los Angeles pointlessly walking around and shoplifting.

Eventually I got some more money in my bank account and now I live in a shit flat in a crack head area. Not like it matters after all the best way to cope is to have some weed or other drugs feeling high and free is the best.

One of my worst mistakes was in the first month I was so pissed at my old band I made a lot of diss tracks on them. Now I realised that was the dumbest thing I could have done no one believes that HU is the one being rude to me when I'm the one who started all the arguments.

Now here I am relapsing again sitting on the bathroom floor a old blade by my side the damage already done droplets of blood slowly dripping on the tiles. My wrists and stomach full of red stripes I didn't have the energy anymore I just stopped and stared at the blood slowly coming from my cuts embracing the sharp stinging feeling my mind slowly growing hazy, my vision growing black.

A smirk tugged on my lips as sleep took over my body peace at last.

Slowly regaining consciousness all I could feel was a throbbing head ache and stinging cuts a pool of dried blood surrounding me.

I was disgusted by myself "fucks sake"

Slowly lifting myself from the floor I quickly wiped away the blood shoving my hoodie back on cringing at the feeling of fabric on the open cuts. 9 lives was going very shit.

I had a good crew Gadget and Yuma were good but now they were getting death threats just because they were working with me. It was all my fault I shouldn't have done this bullshit but some fans still want me back and I don't want to disappoint them completely. So the songs still roll out but really slowly I have gotten way less passionate about it at this point I think the songs are more disappointing then if I just quit altogether.

A knock at the door brought me back into reality rushing off the floor of the bathroom I stumbled into the living room trying to look as natural as I could.

"come in" my voice still hoarse and tired sounding "What's poppin Deuce got time to go out to Del Taco I know it's your favourite" asked Yuma after barging in like he owns the place SAY NO YOU FAT PIG YOUR FUCKING PATHETIC DON'T LET THE HUNGER CONTROL YOU UNLESS YOU WANT To BE UGLIER THEN YOU ARE  NOW LOOK AT YOURSELF

I couldn't get the thoughts out my head but taking a glance at Yuma and his eyes practically pleading for me to go out what do I do "Come on big Deuce you never go anywhere anymore we're worried" Yuma's voice rang in my head "fine we can go" I could hear the voices screaming at me one meal won't hurt right?

Now here we were sitting down at the table the menu in my hands memories of my old friends flooding in  my mind no matter how hard I tried to focus on anything else around me."this can be my new mask" I saw Charlie messing around with the del taco bag on his head "you can just admit your to broke to buy a real one" teased Jdog.

"Deuce, Deuce DEUCE" Yuma yelling snapping me out of my memories "sorry I must have zoned out" I mentioned sheepishly scratching my neck  "whatever man what do you want from the menu I can order for us both" suddenly my body tensed I shouldn't be eating why did I agree quick I need to think of something.

"Just order whatever, you can pick" I watched as Yuma walked to the front talking to the cashier getting the tacos "Alright man I got my favourite enjoy bitch" Great Yuma was already stuffing his face with the taco.

Somehow I did it I ate the damn taco and made up a excuse to why Yuma should leave without me now I stood over the  toilet shoving my fingers down my throat just to throw up hopefully I don't gain any weight. I thought to myself how did I get this bad again back then starving myself slicing my wrists and stomach god I had fallen down a horrible path.