Insecurities of a Demi-God part 4/4

I don’t know if I can be indigo, if I’m still into gold, but I’ll be smiling for you finally.
You haven’t seen this smile in a long, long time.

I’m decorating insecurities, better. “Better me than you” is helping me sleep better, I’m better now. 

I hold you in contempt, these tropes aren’t what they used to be, I’m the problem, I’ve accepted it, I have enough reminders of who I used to be. 
I have the truth out on road shaking its tail feather, for some new scenery, new inspirations are internal, fathering new dreams via pen strokes see how the wrist works, the cool wHip works.

Get back in the heels and work for me, baby, please, you know I’ll take you wherever I go.

Paris, the Bape store in Tokyo, & go figure you’re blessed, and our line of work is curated blasphemy but ignore the papacy, this is a specific type of sin that was made for me. 

They’ve never seen it how we saw it, they have their freedom, they bluffed in god’s face, conned him and he bought it. Maybe I’m wrong, maybe they’re just born with it, maybe it’s all faker than the clay cake sponsored by Maybelline. Can you tell by my cadency, that you’re our last hope & I’m begging that you never leave me, the trade off is tragic but consider the perks, despite the cliche it’s all for the pussy & the money, I can stop buying reggie finally.

East god but I can see what it’s like to be thought of as royalty, finally.

But Mama look, I’m decorating my insecurities better, tales from the prison cells, can you see why I have a phobia of yellow paper. 

Am I still considered indigo if my mouth is gold & I’m going to experiment with all these drugs later?

Shift in perspective, there’s nothing cool about this reality but I’ll take the flaming NyQuil, the quill is from the phoenix’s hied, power crazed & sacrificed is how the dark Phoenix died, so it’s better that it’s me not you.

I feel better knowing it’s better because of me, not you. I’m so selfish. 

Now show them what they’re missing while in their, perfect house, on their perfect couch, with their perfect bitch, slyly texting their, perfect side but they’re still gonna call on you, they’re gonna, whistle and wave, snap and applaud when they come through the zoo and their favourite hooker just played, and you’re so eloquent with how your tongue work.

So selfless you let them take their time they can come first, more to arrive shortly, after keep your arms inside the ride, they all love the safari, don’t get intimidated it’ll get a lil wild but this is what’s through the looking glass, it’s risqué, look past the gates to the poles, no security just chains, no bumps to be found there’s a moment for everyone, all paid for by me, trade me peace of mind in return.

I’m finessing, I hide these insecurities better. Am I still indigo, if I pimp my soul while telling the truth? 

Butterflies are called moths where I’m from, kings are called thugs where I’m from.

Blue blooded, but this is east there’s no crips or bloods where I’m from.

-Thelonious Rager

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