I Play This Game With Myself

I play this game with myself
As though I am a poet
I put science on the shelf
And act as though I know it
I put religion in my mouth
As thought it is a drug
I put hood on the headphones
And listen to a thug
I play this game with myself
It’s sort of rude to ask
I put the game on the belt
And strap it to the glass
I dream a thousand thoughts
Not one of you will follow
So I put the blame softly on you
On making me so hollow
I put the dream on neutral
I slam the fifth in my fist
I put the dream on thirty
With a flick of the wrist
With a quickness and lisp
With fuck this
And wisp
Of smoke
Trailing down this punchline
Upwards into the joke
Broken
It’s me you broke
It’s me you shot in the heart
With your tearing me a hole in my art –

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