Self Sabatoge - Blog Posts
crush it.
i hold violence in my hands so i can crush it.
like citrus in a damn Sunkist,
i love it.
rinds of benevolence just can’t cut it.
can’t quit this;
can’t rise above it,
cause the juice is worth the squeeze.
poisoned orange intravenously,
fruit of the poisonous tree;
peel back what’s inevitably
flowing cold inside of me.
my anger chills righteously—
hellish from the seventh to ninth zone.
so-da freeze’s frigid to the depths
of my spinal bones
close to my heart;
can i kill the bicarbonate spark?
so-di-um salt tears can’t boil over
as acid starts to depart,
leaving a mark.
like angry chem-trails grieving the sky;
sickening all
that can’t bear to say goodbye.
pop another top, squash it with a sigh.
addicted to the misery, to the high—
to sugary sweet trickery,
and i don’t know why.
-kalika