My greatest hits
Will be spoiled
If you choose my exit
The happy ones I’ve posted,
Like hahaha you fuck
Bitch ass you suck
Lamest A B C rhyming eating your own shit you did yuck
Just my imaginations and I’ve never anything more but it’s a chore after bad times like I think superpowers exist, mind and wrists
I guess these scars were just games for you? No.
See, I fight possible scenarios out via poem or song
Face expressions because emotions are being held for processing
Yet I have to explain but no I know what it means
I’ll be overthinking shit or narrowing down imagined scenes
My greatest hits as blasphemy
Already gone, so slick, they blow raspberries.