Sing About Me

​Sometimes I look in the mirror

And ask myself: Am I really scared of passing away?

If I died, what would everyone else say?

At night will they go to bed unconcerned?

Or mad sad at the demise of their friend?

The same one they never gave a hoot about?

Nah I think the fuck not.

Anyways, if it’s today, I hope I hear a

cry out from Heaven so loud it can water down a demon

With the Holy Ghost ’til it drown in the blood of Jesus

And another one from the pits of hell,

So loud that it could shake the foundations of the earth.

I wrote some poems that made sure that my lifeline reekin’

The scent of a reaper, 

The scent of death

Ensuring that my allegiance

With the other side may come soon

And if I’m doomed

May the womb of my mother be blessed for many moons

I suffer a lot

And every day that glass mirror get tougher to watch

I tie my stomach in knots

As I gather the broken pieces of my too fragile heart from the ground.

I get cut by some of the pieces,

I lay back, wondering

Shouldn’t I be used to the pain by now?
And I’m not sure why I’m infatuated with death

My imagination is surely an aggravation of threats

That can come about

’Cause the tongue is mighty powerful

Maybe it’s ’cause I’m a dreamer and sleep is the cousin of death

But before I go

I hope that at least one of you

Sings about me when I’m gone.

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