Subtleties are for pussies

subtleties are for pussies who tell it how it might be
well I tell it how it is hopin you wanna fight me.
hearts with price tags and friends like douchebags
It's hard to get by in a world full of scumbags.
but I don't lie anymore, I don't have to pretend.
everyone knows I'm a fuckin monster with a pen.
a fucking problem to the end.
My mind doesn't sleep, it only waits to breathe
It waits for opportunity like a stalker in the breeze.
behind the windows of truth and the doors of a dream.
like a beast under the bed just plotting tragedies
I'll reveal it all just to get shit off my mind.
I don't care who gets hurt, I don't care if you cry.
Someone has to take it this far.
Someone has to be authentic for once.
All you fake ass martyrs. Pseudo-suicide cunts.
I been to hell already, shared a cell with the devil
on another level to revel in the dark with the rebels
I slept with the traitors and hung with the thieves
I bodied the haters and got sprung from the scene.
No one can tell me shit about struggle.
I been through it all
I know disaster and pain like the back of my fist
With every scar in place like a badge on my wrist
I'll never bleed for you though. I'll never threaten my core.
I have yet to find something worth suffering for.
See the difference between a pro and a novice is
beginners make threats and I make promises.
And I don't go back on anything that I believe
If I say it like it is, that means that's the way its gonna be.
I am the proof that there is a reality.
I spent my whole life destroying the methods of duality.
the existence of normality with resistance to formalities
While you conform to the storms of commercial sub-realities.
Controversial contradictions like spending life as a statistic
living under surveillance, under supervised restrictions
under video cameras like an awkward urinalysis
this is my fucking life. This is not your analysis.
I am not a basis for your fucking comparisons.
I am not a race or a model for your averages.
I am a fucking person with heart that bleeds.
I'm no longer a number or a suspect on the street.
This is a country of savages. A cunt tree of scavengers.
Big business big wigs, slave traders and bastards.
You can pay for stock in prisons but you cant buy a conscience
Don't complain about crime when it increases your profits.
Fuck the rules of the rich. They will never apply.
Not to me or the real, just to superficial eyes.
An official compromise of the issues at hand.
Why is a dollar worth more than the death of a man?
I'll never understand but I'll always stand above
when everyone sells out and the world is not enough
I'll remain right here as real as my blood
Spitting fire on the people that choose money over love
Money over truth, money over you, money over it all.
I will never fall for your ways. I'd rather die for a cause.
Out of pocket and above the laws.
Fuck your fabricated integrity. Yea I said it to whoever is affected.
I will never be what you expected. Mother fuck you all.

The Art of Self Destruction

An architect of self destruction.
Streak these reds across the page.
Intentions remain so counterproductive.
I'd bleed out just to write about the stains.

Have faith in where passion will take you.
A ripped page on black concrete.
Wicked designs like a mental breakthrough.
Slipping through the cracks under my feet.

Shattered charisma and broken sleep.
Impossible strokes under sickening light.
Just splatter the paint and hope to dream.
A reckless approach to a blistering fight.

Scar up another piece of worthless fabric.
Pour the future stains all over the voids.
Mark the reality of passion with static.
Scrape the silence with the violence of noise.

Write motherfucker like its all you have.
Paint as if the world wants you dead.
Carve out a story and sell your heart.
Remember creativity is a gun to your head.

A Beautiful Fraud

Please hold your applause. I'm a lost cause.
Hiding in your expectations.
Circling in my desperation.
I'm not who everyone thinks I am.
Just pretty ink across the page.
A handsome lie for a face.
This isn't my reality.
This is a cryptic tragedy.
This is nothing but a dream.
I feel everyone staring at me.
Watching and waiting for miracles.
But apprehension is all I see.
A little boy still afraid of failure.
I am nothing but a lie.
I am a beautiful fraud.
Confidence is painted on and decorated for you all.
A decimated truth. An aggravated youth.
With so much, so much, too much left to prove.
Selfish and cynical.
You are all just objects with eyes.
Too oblivious to realize that I am just a lie.
A hundred smiles in your face.
Never see this empty space.
I just hide in plain sight.
Too obvious is never obvious enough.