Sobriety… (with Dustin & Explicit)

Sobriety pt 1. (Explicit)

Fixated on my weakness,
I’ve been getting tired,
Of all this bleakness.
I’ve been withholding,
So many secrets.
I’ve been over thinking,
All these regrets.
I’ve been trying to,
Silence my demons.
I’ve been trying to kill,
These so called reasons,
I use to justify my treason.
My sobriety;
Is falling out of season…

I’m just a mortal man,
The very best he can.
Everyone’s too above,
To understand,
That I’ve got a sickness,
Trembling within my hands.
There once was a time,
When I;
Had grand plans,
Only to watch them,
Twirl away like ceiling fans.
When my thoughts take off,
They never land,
They just crash & slam,
Into the Earth.
This feeling’s got me,
Buried in the dirt,
As blood soaks this shirt.
I’ve been dying,
Of thirst; In need of,
Spiritual rebirth,
And lately I’ve been,
Re-evaluating my worth.
Used to have the drive,
To survive;
But now I can’t get,
This 💩 to work.
Broke down engine,
Motions inert.
Introvert on the alert,
For his unprecedented,
Growth spurt.
Help; I need it now as,
Temptation begins to flirt,
Guess I need;
That JG Wentworth.
My whole life’s,
Inverted reality makes,
It much much worse,
As I’ve been falling in reverse.
These sentences I rehearse,
The only reason I don’t submerse.
Must of pissed off a witch,
Cause I’m cursed.
This sobriety is burning,
Me alive; My insides,
About to burst.

Often I ask myself,
What the hell am I,
Doing wrong?
Why is it that my stress,
Won’t let me,
Set down the bong?
Why why why,
Is my playlist filled,
With sad songs..
My ever-changing moods,
Can never get along.
Getting crushed,
By the hand of King Kong,
Til my eyes pop,
Out of socket because,
This pressure;
Is so damn strong.
Never fit in like,
A three prong,
In a two prong,
Screw the author,
Who’s been writing,
My sad chapters.
If this ain’t hell,
This is surely rapture.
How tf could I,
Let myself get captured.
I’d say my best art form,
Would probably,
Be disaster.
I wanna confess my sins,
But even demons,
Been smoking blunts,
With the pastor.
Even if my parents,
We’re still together,
I’d still be a bastard.
Trust me;
Sabotaging my life,
Is a skill set I’ve mastered.
Man; I can even do it,
When I’m not plastered…
Been thinking bout,
Going ghost with Casper.
But my hope says,
I’ll once again see the sun,
At some point after,
I just wish this darkness,
Could go away faster,
Cause’ honestly,
I’ve been thinkin’ bout,
A 9mm blaster,
To silence dreams of,
How much the past hurt.

Sobriety pt. 2 (Dustin)

Sobriety stems from substantial circumstances,
Abusive situations set up by commercial administrations.
Admirations thought to be safe,
through participation in an unwanted wait.
Substance after substance sabotaged by my thoughts,
I’ve been raped,
But not…
I want to turn them off,
Ya know?
Those thoughts,
Subconsciously played game,
Ring around the Rosie,
Pocket full of phonies and fakes,
Old me’s,
looking for raisins but hate the taste of grapes.
I deny how they are one in the same,
or two different foods but relate with age.
I’m a mess,
My mind picks a piece of time,
Attaches it to a smile,
To mask the traumatic addictive short instance wrapped in a while.
I’m in rage,
Against the machine,
I’m Numb,
Smashing pumpkins,
Still just a rat in a cage.
Same thoughts that got me sprinting in one spot on the exact same day.
I look around with “all that I’ve got,”
Feeling Used like AIDS diagnosed on a Sunday,
the clinic was closed so the Devil went ahead Loved me…

I’m staring at my conversation,
fact after fact that I’m only addicted to
my last act of re calibrating.
In the sense that my equilibrium is a bit un equal,
Sequel followed by sequel,
Still looking forward Backward,
Sequencing routinely in line,
with normal people.
While our eyes wonder,
And our hands and fingers fidget,
But with reoccurring feelings of no purpose,
On to something,
Itching for that something,
But still searching for the surface,
Scratching and wanting,
Impulsively waiting,
as if that something is actually coming.
Pill form substances,
Dosed by the milligrams,
Xanax and Adderall given to me,
like my mind is the publicist.
Paradigms situate to protect my mind state,
So I’m now intoxicated a news feed of fake,
Snap chat an Instagram my only reason followed by a tweet,
social mediated sex to be complete,
Dopamine fix,
Attention to get,
Hit after hit…
My fulfillment is confused with…
The thought of this?
The thought of what?
The thought,
of thought,
that controls,
The thought,
Of matter,
That matters,
A mind without God,
A mind without heart,
Disconnected from a far,
I cannot fear,
so I pretend to Love those close,
But I ignore what’s near,
It’s all right here,
A perception projected within our head,
Imagine a Life with beauty and it shall forever appear…

3 thoughts on “Sobriety…

  1. Welcome to the machine
    Where we walk around half asleep
    Our brains have been rotted by disease
    Where the police won’t let you redeem
    The violence you repeat
    That you saw on TV
    Now you live a life
    Where you believe you can’t leave
    Low self-esteem
    thinking you can’t succeed
    So you proceed going to the extreme
    Constantly getting pack in a cell
    Like a bunch of sardines

    Liked by 1 person

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