MoneyPenny,
James here. Iâm sorry I was rude. I’d love the chance to fly you to France and dine out, eat luigini again. We have to hide our reprisal, our affection, our money, recreational antidotes and blood-thirstiness. Iâm fine with that! Are you!?
Lovebug, I HOPE youâre on that mailing list and catching all the good-willed mindful minutes I picture you being close to me in.
We work with a bunch of hypocrites who blame us for getting through life smiling, for all their problems, for us getting paid the big bucks even though thatâs them. They raise their voices and file complaints every time we come back together or even think about it!
I wake up every fâing morning and have to work on not losing my cool while questions get ignored, mutual respect is not shown and innocent gestures get me hunted down carrying handcuffs and tasers.
EXcuse me if I push you away as hard as I can. I feel like the officiating crew never getting listened to!
I feel like a resume getting denied because my page of proof of work got torn out of the packet Iâve put my whole life into creating. Then they treated me like a labrat. They put me on a hampster wheel to keep me busy. They overfed me on purpose to keep me happy and quiet.
They called, and call me a menace, for sending girls bouquets of love, including names in poetry, tapes of my voice spelling names Iâm afraid to write down in an acrostic poem, blasphemy I wonât put my name to and me finding issue with their unethical ways of getting paid.
I dust my hands of those freaks every hour of my day. I crave normal heterosexual relations and they geek. I turn my tv on, on mute, hoping theyâll take the hint. I still flinch when unknown cars park outside my house. Thatâs a b!tch.
Iâm left cringing when I just think about the sh!t they still knock me for âdoing.â Catch my drift?
Baby, if I could mail you a bottle of kids one sip at a time, then, maybe we could, or would feel better sitting outside crying hoping the best for each other. Trust me if I could lock up the soul-snatching peed-ophiles that once felt good lurking, getting paid for doing everything they clammed about me doing, Iâd be hosting them all at my house. How else would they all get my autograph copied and pasted on their timesheets?
Creatively fighting nightmares 24/7 is what I do now. I call agents and file complaints, because in my head, theyâre not pulling through. I stay locked up in my room peering through the shades on my windows, actively trading.
I donât hold sh!t for anybody anymore. The love of my life, referring to her gets me choked out and scared. People yell like itâs a therapeutic exercise. I chuck deuces and willfully ignore nooses theyâd all hang from!
Stay in your lane, Keech! Your levelheadedness is needed to keep this ship straight.
They all trust you taking sh!t for the crew then smiling through it. Theyâre all f#cking up more than you, Kyle. Breathe. Let it glo. Theyâre all f#ckin hoes. âSpecially the b!tches f#cking your f#ckin sisters, getting saved and probably put on the pay roll.
IâM SORRY, BABY LAMB, I HEARD YOU TOOK BLADES TO YOUR WRISTS. AT LEAST YOUâRE OUT OF THIS SH!TSHOW
I was reminded again yesterday, even friends bring up and note lyrics that feel like rocks being whipped at hoes. Thatâs aighht. Iâm alrighht. Iâm holding on tight to the one rising. I got a whole bunch of nerves that donât feel heard by the rest of my body. Shut up, Kyle donât get them looking they might pick up on counts 1, 2 and 3.
âI love you, buttercup. I feel like having feelings at all will get my d!ck sawed off. If I could park outside your house and just wait til the end of time, I would!â
Iâm left scared to be scared. Putting a tough face on gets me b!tched TF out. When I expressed I wanted to be a vessel, I wasnât talking about for these two-faced b!tches getting paid.
This is exactly the stuff if I donât write creatively about stays in my head all day.