Thought Crime Spree

Increase the dose diminish the high

A smile is a pipe dream suffering aged like wine

Aged like wine

Coughing up blood

With my mind on fire

Juggling switchblades on a high

Tension wire

I don't have any scars

Only dormant wounds

That crack like fault lines

I only have

Five thoughts anymore

And four of them

Are of you

Body bursts and leaks

Like a trash bag

Into the gutter

And the grave

And the grave