DIRTY LAUNDRY

smoking for recreation

all this shit I hold in
all this I have within
all of this could come to an end if I knew where to begin

my path is violated and the stakes are escalated.
I debated with my conscious a way out
smoking bought peace,
but now its all recreation.
I'm scattered across a constellation,
a desperation for company 
in any form similar to what I once had
something that just made me glad.
I find myself being so mad
and I have yet to take into consideration that my generations thought processes
glass is far more empty than full.
I'm becoming so dull and somehow not understood.

so I keep my inner beings separate from conversation
I keep my tongue still and observe the nature of my environment
or confederation.

is it even worth me speaking on this?
are we worth leaking for this?
as we ball up fists, instead we admit 
that we have made it to the appendix of our wits.

I realized the tide of anxiety is not whats good
and your continence leaks for social media
and I'm back to doing things the way I should.

I like the privacy of the unknown 
and I like no notifications popping up on my phone
I like living a life where my behavior is not classified as right or wrong
because these days morality is nothing but whatever Twitter says
and a person who doesn't have enough followers would say Twitter is dead
but Twitter is what fed the mouth of those self- absorbed ego's that beg
but gave me my insight 
and instructed me towards which way to not to go.

I know what image means to plenty 
to people who will give anything to keep it 
and I don't have to utter a sound when I peep shit

just look and continue.

its like my life is like "hey whats next on the menu"
"what else can we do to her"
"what will finally make her crack"
and in fact
that always bring me back to identifying the implications in my unfortunate events.

this is not a prognosis

a boast about coping with success and wealththis is about identifying the essence of my habitat and myself// e.b.