Still down South drinking out the mouth,
and my moms still bestowing
bottles and bottles of prescriptions
no one to share, I'm busy
running on rumination and starvation,
worrying I won’t ever see heaven,
way too focused on self preservation
to think people are a safe haven.
But if you make it fast
you can catch me relaxed, drinking
with my friend, by the Bennet,
carrying secrets; my brother lonely
in foster homes, my mom glowing;
more pregnancy, I was made
to match her insanity, match my sibling,
I'll die here, copy his fate,
or I could wait, be patient,
pass time and try to find the wrong in me
my answer will become an addiction,
and the consequences will leave me sorry.