Self Thoughts

It’s the time of the season when blood runs hot
As I gently exhale my pot
Smoke feeling the air
She plays with my hair
While we exchange a stare
Words and whispers are spoken
Unfortunately I feel broken
Emotionless actions of self-satisfaction
God I wish I had a distraction
Such as love
So pure as a white dove
But atlas
I’m the dirt of the earth the sin of ambitious men
The race that should have never begin
Living in this muck
All cause by a single emotionless fuck
Self-hatred and loathing
The trigger sounds so nice
In my ears
No tears for I’m already dead inside
Trapped and entangled in false lies
Look at my life
Drift away
Gone at the end of the day