Nobody says you have to be gangstas, hoes. Read more learn more, change the globe. Ghetto children, do your thang.
Of course nothing was going to be simple after our fiasco. In fact it was always going to be ugly and bloody. My guts dangle from my stomach, they drag along the floor leaving a red wine stain. I do my best to keep everything inside from flying out, it leads to a lot of apologies. Nothing wreaks of desperation and fear more than a man grappling and failing to keep his scarred history from imploding.
For now at least, I can keep wiping myself clean and trying over. Keep smiling and working hard, never mind the urge to lose your shit in front of everyone. The metaphorical pain is unreal, however I’d appreciate the kindness of anyone willing to mend me. Thank you for the kiss, I admire your bandaging baby, but I’m fucked for a long time. Sometimes these beautiful smiles lacks the skills to fix me.
Sure you’re the one gone. Fact, yes at this point you’re a ghost. However I’m the one with character flaws, I have to be the one to heal myself. Because ghosts lack hands to solve my issues.