And I’d be willing to let that be all I ever really have to say
But I wouldn’t be myself if I didn’t talk circles all around my problems and act like simply talking is gonna always solve ‘em
But you supposed to vent, not see a wound and poke until you open it
And that’s pretty much what this is, another color on the rubix cube I call a tongue
Turn on me, I bet that I can push you till I have my fun
But I’m not him, not the kinda guy I am, or rather that’s not me
This the reason I thought I peaked with bubble gum and marciline
See without a muse, I was doomed I, couldn’t scheme what to spit
This is where the prompts come in
Holy hell, how could Beastie not be allured by those devil horns
16 city limits, headphones on
Backpack clad with the symbol of a KPOP band that Beastie had to call out
First few words melting in the mouth, Beastie quickly cleared his mind from the rotten gutter and muttered them out
“Excuse me mam, I couldn’t help but notice the Matoki object head, I don’t mean to bother you, it’s just I am a colossal fan an all of us have a phobia that we don’t fit in, right?”
Fastforward, they fit together till a skeleman night, Beastie had a work thing, She was hoisting drunken friends from the toilet out into cold air of night.
“I’m no shark, but if you don’t want to blood then get your shit and leave” they disappeared like hobbits with enchanted rings
She wanted him home so sorta like She had a potion, started getting chocked up saying “the dream that you sold to get me here is gone Beastie
Domestic abuse and toxicity, cool story add a dragon
Added Little and they all felt firmly planted, yet to discover the cannibal lurking, laughing
A plague on your houses, won’t be ghost in site yet the nights are going to start feeling drafty
Everyone in the relationship had a mouth with teeth to speak but refused to use them
Like some witch had sprung an abduction or placed some voodoo on ‘em
Sleep was not nocturnal, blood shot eyes, late to work, this is your last warning
Fog of war at home was steady growing, She felt trapped in a lifeless vat
A woman possessed, enough with all the crap, two boyfriends yet She still sensed an isolation gap
Little would turtle in the room all but hypnotized that he had to keep quiet
The mask Beastie dawned started to crack, the killer had been sited
Could there be hope for any form of reincarnation, or would statistics take them