black balloon

I need a cigarette. Things aren't gonna be the same, I woke up unsatisfied at the time and wished it were dark out so today didn't exist in my memory. I hope this favor doesn't blow up in my face or step all over my sweet little heart, my caring little soul. Something feels wrong inside my gut. It's as though a black hole is eating my insides up. Nothing will be left. I hate when people insist on trying to feed me. And they insist on trying to figure me out. Things aren't gonna feel the same. You can feed your conscience whatever you'd like but I hope it suffocates you in the end. I hope all the skeletons in your little boxed closet fall out and grab you back in.