Stitching My Stitches

Caught between a rock and a hard place

Trying to catch up with the world’s pace

Because I don’t want to end up lost in space

Constantly running in my mind’s own chase

Let’s see what I can find in my briefcase

I reach to the corner labeled “just in case”

End up shoving shit in my bloated face

I’m spraying mysef with my own god damn mace!

If I keep doing this, will I have broke it?

Or maybe I should encourage the flame and stoke it

But in the process inevitably choke it

And stick a sword down there to poke it

And by then, I’ll see that my stitches need stitches

Accusing myself like seventeenth century witches

Realizing my struggles then were really riches

Because T-Ball turns into MLB pitches

So while I still have the breath, suck on this bitches

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