come with me, we’ll shoot elephant guns on the marta train

we’ll be together for a while, then apart, AH, disdain

that sweet infinite depression comes sweeping back quick 

like a stab in the back, or some sort of ear flick, from some dick who lacks empathy

true, sympathy is a drug like the rest of em, ignored by the best of em

but cultivated in the chest of em, ya feel? for real, ebonics may be theirs, but my hair is mine, and im here, so there it is 

where it is, right there, right next to the lighter, maybe not a fighter but some kind of competitor 

less than seven bucks less, should i bet it or leave it in my pocket, so hungry and alone i can feel the carbs leaking through my eye sockets

i dont make the rules and never follow, and despite my rebellion im hollow and obvious

impervious to advice, previously nice but currently jaded

enthusiasm faded, potential degraded,  goodness persuaded out of the body like a groundhog out the dirt

and it hurts, but there’s nothing to experience the pain, just a fully egotistical shit caked with disdain, hoping to find someone to share its violent nature