I got fucking baked again on regular flower, giving him the power, at least for another hour, but he's been showing me this last week that he doesn't want to leave or commit suicide, one of the things I feared he'd try, but he's a fighter, just like me, and now I'm watching him sleep, just like I've been doing every fucking time, with every fucking rhyme, and he said that he was just fucking with my mind, oh wait, that's just my head again, just like in his, I've several men sleeping in my bed, so don't fuck with my head. Maybe I'll just rap instead.
He laid down to take a nap,
so I'll smoke weed and write this rap
about how i fucking need my steed
to get up and take me out on another fucking date, but he knows that it can wait.
He says he's not a Dick-Ted
cause he knows how to fight the urge
to get fucking surged,
even though we fucking purged
on the shit the dabs were mixed with.
He's been "dabbing" all along, and
I've been hitting the bong
all along since the beginning, which is why he's always winning every argument
But he knows where I went,
into a dark fucking cloud,
but now I know fucking better than to hit that fucking loud
or get lost in the clouds,
so I'm dealing with it, now,
but I'm still afraid tho
that I will be the one to go
off the fucking handle
when I find that I can't handle
any fucking thing,
so I started writing down
what is going through my head
© beverlyblinx318