† SINISTER PUBLICATIONS†

A part of this, a part of that

Lonely on my keyboard I depart

Thoughts always invade my mind

I breathe, I die inside while alive

Memories come and take away

Joy and feelings of the day

The house feels like a museum of things I’m trying to fix, but the cracks are all inside. Four years gone and I’m still navigating the ghost of it, while the walls at home close in—arguments with my mom, the silence where my old man used to be. It’s a constant friction.

I’m fighting a war in the quiet. I’m looking for my “best interests” in a life that feels like it’s been gut-punched. They say you grow through the fire, but it feels more like I’m just waiting for the smoke to clear. I’m exhausted by the effort of surviving when every day feels like a funeral for the person I used to be. But I wake up. I pull on the boots. I find something heavy to move, just to feel like I’m still driving the nails into my own reality.

I look to my side and pops is gone

Told me to hold the steer,

I am done,

I got you pops,

I will stay on top

Even if the world tries to make me stop

I had many a love and many a loss

At this age I only have a dice to toss

Give me fame, fortune or death

Naw, give me sight and clarity to part west

And the times I tremble the most

Is when I remember my bros

Sis and big bro alike,

Got my back till the end of times