Same Old Hate


Continuum of my persuaded hate
Is this emptiness what it means,
A fulfilled predator of caffeine and glyphosate
The poison is for me, in my water and beans
What doesn't kill me makes me wish it did
Ideation of true peace, God fucking forbid
Don't drink too much, do not think too much
Lest I palpitate, get crazy ideas and such....

Any piece of peace of mind of mine I'd contemplate
Must be fleeting, out of reach, competing with the pesticide
I thought it out and was outsmarted, not less left me irate
Constant aggravation at my effort lost for being tried
Like a negative gestation
Thought patterns in their endless retrace
This (un)conscious meditation
Always returns me to this lifeless place
Among grey matter, where nothing matters to me
Except the loathing and its paradox, and my cup of coffee
Stray thoughts and the other poison I drink into my belly
Bloated and yet a void still, with emptiness swelling
And I can't ever make it stop no matter how sick I become
Fucking sick of me and this sickness and the bile, fucking loathsome
Even if I forced to forever regurgitate
I'd still be filled with this...same old hate...

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