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New killer, different name

Tell me what it was like to pull the trigger To hear shots rang out and the sound of agony escape from someone’s lips Tell me about the weight of the gun against your sweaty palms and the way the bullet clicked into the barrel Tell me how it felt to run Tell me how it felt to be a wanted man Is it everything I imagine? Is it a giant adrenaline rush? Or a constant nagging worry? The kind that’ll make you stand on your toes at all times Or is it the kind where your heart pumps rapidly and your brain craves more of it? Tell me what it was like to see the body hit the floor To see the blood spill out on the cement Were you scared? Did your demons scream in excitement? Or were they simply silent now that they had their wish? Tell me about it. Tell me about adding to a body count About gaining a name in the streets besides being a dealer Tell me anything and leave out no details Did you cry any? Or did you just accept it? You being raised another guy on the block, you followed the rules right? You doing what you was taught right? Your mama did it, you followed in her footsteps Right? Now you like the rest of them, another killer in the streets with a different name

there are days where i’d rather be numb than feel anything at all. i live in an inescapable mass of mixed emotions with voices that whisper terrible things. there are days i wish i could make it all go away and be happy again, not just happy every blue moon. and there are days, like today, that is completely dark and i wish for nothing but a bottle and a cigarette. i’ve began to recognize some of these feelings are more harmful than an actual person. some are bathed in recklessness and passion, while others are madness and danger. and there are those that is like a match to gasoline, ignite and all things go to hell. sleep... it’s my escape these days but now even that is becoming tainted. my nightmares are slowly coming back, the last one more horrid than the other. its like all my demons in my head come out to play. they try to create the most horrible thing they could find and place it in my safe place. it’s rather tiring of constantly waking to fear at 3 am then being swamped by shitty emotions. idk... maybe one day it’ll all cease. maybe one day it’ll be actually okay like all these people say. and maybe sunshine will come after the rain. but fuck if i know, i haven’t seen that yet.

-s.g ‘17

Selling your soul

it wasn’t until now that i realized what “selling your soul to the devil” means because sometimes the devil doesn’t come as a red little man with horns cloaked in darkness.. he can come dressed in hazel eyes and chiseled jaw lines smelling like old leather and cigarettes masked with cologne all wrapped in such beautiful lies and he’s beautiful in every way imaginable he’ll make your heart skip a beat and take every breath you have away you’ll watch almost every sunrise with him and then fall asleep against his chest and you’ll find comfort in his hugs because they feel like home and every kiss you share will be better than the last and every stolen glance you’ve caught will be etched into your mind and every car ride out to the city in the middle of the night with him became your therapy and every little secret you held spilled out into the floorboard cant be taken back and he’ll tell you he loves you and you’ll say it back and everything will be fine for a few months because he’s your anchor in it all he’s the one you tell every fucked up thing in your head to he’s the one you let see your tears and holds your hand through it all he’s the one to kiss your forehead and tell you everything will be alright ... and in a way it felt like it was going to be but damn what a lie that was and you fell for it all you fell for the little things and the big things thinking everything was right for once but it wasn’t and it’s shame with all the promises he said he would keep are all now broken and you can’t help but wonder was any of it real? all of the i love yous, me and you till the end, and pinkie promises... did it mean anything? sigh.... the devil is not a red little man but a beautiful soul with a warm smile and a cold heart

-S.G ‘17

Mama I’m Sorry

times a wastin and i’m just tastin all the lies that you’ve been spitting and i’ve been hitting this blunt going in rotation mind needs a vacation from all the dark thoughts from all the drugs i’ve filled it with but let’s focus on what i just bought the newest shoes and this fresh polo i thought i’d gain a new friend but i’m still riding solo man i’m getting so low my mind ain’t right anymore imagination playin with my demons now intertwined and mesmerized all this shit is no surprise chastised and criticized mama i’m sorry it was just a mistake i was hypnotized and ill advised i’m telling you it was the drugs out on the streets, thinking we were some type of thugs running through backstreets and alleyways waving guns in the air bandana around our face man one last chug i swear i didn’t want to stay but i think the shit was laced mama i’m sorry they told me lies and i swallowed them like you taught me how to swallow my pride blunt goes back around got my girl beside me and we acting like bonnie and clyde take her to the sea side just for a joyride i ain’t thinking straight one more pass around and these memories are becoming hazy damn i’m wavy but i do this shit on a daily mama im sorry

-Sg ‘17

taste of death across my tongue go ahead and pull the trigger you’ve held the gun to long why you hesitating? i’m running out of patience palm itching craving for the end of it all how long until i’m gone? maybe it’ll be today wait another moment put the gun down again light another blunt and now i’m stoned tears down my face holding onto memories they don’t even matter maybe that’s my restraint but the crave of darkness still lingers turn off my ringer i don’t want to hear no shit just take hit after hit i’m over it kissed death three times before third try wasn’t the charm but i got the gun against my skull everything has became so dull pills put me in a lull i wish i could stay asleep and let people say RIP but they never cared when i was awake so why they caring now? i keep saying fuck it all but i care to much so let me smoke another lighter and then burn i don’t know when i’ll learn people only care for themselves and it’s only you in the end

-Sg’17

how terrible it is to love something that death can touch how terrible is it to know that no matter what happens, it all comes to a stop ...it’s heart breaking to think about sometimes but i no longer have room to talk i no longer can say i don’t know the face behind death the inevitable the fear of many the thing that many people try to avoid but death is not the scary thing that everyone makes it be ... she is inviting like a warms mother hug when you’ve came in from the cold and frost has bitten ever fingertip and toe tips and everything in between she’s like your grandmothers house on a spring evening when the weather is just right and all the flowers are beginning to bloom she’s like that one time you went on the ferris wheel and it stopped at the very top and it was just you and the city skyline and the autumn air she’s like that summers night when you were at grandfathers land by a fire and you were standing just so that the heat was perfect on your face she’s everything you have wished upon at the fountain in the mall when you were little she’s a beautiful thing .. not beautiful as in humanly but beautiful as in the sunrise on a sunday morning right before everything begins to move ...i can’t remember what happened next because i am standing here but i tried three different times not to be each time a little different each time a different tweak from what was done before a different drug added or higher amount of pills taken or maybe a little alcohol into the mix but i stand here today and i can say i have seen death and she is not the monster you have imagined inside your mind she is beautiful and bold taken who she chooses while telling others to wait she’s perfect in the most fearful way but she isn’t the monster you’ve created her to be