My Favourite Type of Interlude, Where’s the B***hes At?

Tears licked, up from the yang, focus on the surface,
Illusions have never been so; so amusing(?).
Relapsed, I’ll admit I’ve been using;
Traits of the “bad guy”.

All hail the fate of the bad guy.
More L’s.
12 stops away,
& he’s the prime conductor, (him being I & I being me that is).
Perfect pitch with the hint he’ll get strung out.

The root of all evil,

All mine,
A jail cell with two walls & a path of dependency.
The druggy, hoed up with eyes dilated.
The curiosity ruined you,
Ignore the ‘why’; everyone else soul was taken,
But the reality, this is more than a dick move,
Aerodynamic bandit,
Floating on a black cloud searching for everybody’s parade.
& in the midst of that,
I found your dealer,
I stole your dealer,
Now the addict is the addict with a dealer’s only bargain is bag full of promises & a wet warm gherkin.
(Ooh I’ll take it).
During your chance to flee you rather turn tail,
Hide your (smirk)shame, touch the sky with the tip your secrets.
Vicky, lean with me.
Your thoughts are with me mixing,
Realise, the truth:
‘I’ve got a fiend with me.’

Pink toed diva,
Green haired goddess, my Ivy.
(Her name isn’t Ivy).

Cry me a nightmare once you wake up.
I won’t wake up.
Make your own way back.

& here lies the truth in my return,
The screams,
Like Hov just came back,
The “45” splattered on the pillow covers,
& I’m rolling over & asking:

“I’ve got tickets,
Now who wants to take this show on the road?”

– The Rager

Written by Oladeji Odumosu


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