Cold Hands
Why don't you wear a sweater ?
The women that took my love for granted made me this way .
Seemingly unable to love, because I love myself & my craft too much .
The only thing that let’s me off the hook when I leave, because I need some time away to be .
My craft understands because the fruition of it became what it is with attention, affection, & care with detail .
I’ve heard that I’m lucky, but to feel as soulless as this deep down is what drowns me in my sleep .
Dreams pull me in to what could’ve been, I could shape reality flirting with death’s cousin .
But that’s the catch . Desire .
I never could find one to want with .
Shit I’ll be dolo then .
I’m so focused I don’t feel like talking .
Truthfully we all want something from another,
to use one another .
I don’t talk because I’m pissed off .
My own mother can’t connect with me,
She doesn’t truly want to .
Neither do I, I’d rather be treated as a human than a pet .
It’s too late, the screens made the strains in our necks .
I’m the only one striving for amazing, I have nobody else .
It seems that way . And every time I try not to believe that .
I’m proven otherwise .
People are tryna feed their families .
I want to abandon mine .
They don’t serve me .
I don’t feel love here .
Sometimes I want to die here .
Fuck being accepted, I say respect it .
Suck my dick is my answer .
Two fingers up .
Trust no one .
When we make it we can love again .
For now we keep it pushing .
Godspeed .
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