Déjà vu

I’m well acquainted with the bathroom floor and my slushy eyes shining like gunmetal; no stranger to the sweet song of sorrow and the misery that I choose to swallow. Even now an insomniac of demolition, a tortured victim of devastation, a raging storm of misbehaving, compulsive shaking, constant mistaking. Accustomed to the blank stares that fill my mind and narcoticizing the soul that was left far behind. Driving the same dagger into my heart, playing with my little mess of innocence. Eyes painted black, throw my head back, familiar feelings of ambivalence. Déjà vu, veins of blue, somebody’s in my head once more. The drugs I withdrew, abstaining from you, chest pains, bloodstains on the cold tile floor. It’s all so familiar, the cheap thrills I thrive for; a constant reel of horror movies playing over in my head. Falling deeply into my manic condition, my fantasy riddled with false superstition. Medication for sedation, racing notions, surrendering to my final submission. Déjà vu, tears of blue, voices screaming in my head another night. Essence so high just to drop from the sky, back into you, dark state of blue, déjà vu, déjà vu.


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