LOVE LETTERS FROM THE DYLAN HARRIS LIBRARY
_____________________________________
We the damaged, end up doing more damage
So I gravitate to the misfits and long haired refugees
But what’s the difference between existing and truly living?
Could it just be Robert Pattinson playing Batman?
I’m too frustrated to put make up on my words today
You’ll just have to accept the wrinkles in my phrasing
What’s the point of us lying through filters anyways?
That’s what brought us to the point of shotguns
Rejection the sponge that soaks up my soul
But I have no strength to fight anymore
It’s like a switch went off
Now I’m falling deeper and deeper into confusion
My feet walk strange streets that seem odd
My eyes see strange people that look familiar
My ears hear words that have no pulse
My hands touch the day of distortion
How could I give so much to others, but feel this empty?
Yet still they ask me for more
More more more, but I have no more
I dip my pen in bitterness and erase with ammunition
I’m sure your mouth can taste the bullets in the lines
Unclaimed people tend to eventually shutdown
And that’s where I’m at right now
Can a writer go postal with his poetry?
I feel like spraying everybody with full metal word jackets
Walking in the wiki library with my avatar trench coat on
My own little Columbine meta verse
Putting my call of duty sights on all the cool kids, blasting them with poop emojis
One set of handcuffs away from infamy
One Sim rant away from being Kanye Jeen-Yuhs
Do you think padded white walls could restrain my bored ape NFTs?
Would they prevent me from hurting the yacht club with viral aphorisms?
Let me turn the pen on myself and put this blame where it belongs
You’re all witnesses to the art of my own self-destruction
So Let us all, bow our heads for the marriage of pain and darkness
So Let us all, bow our heads for the marriage of pain and darkness
Love letters, from the Dylan Harris Library…
Poem By: Billy Alsbrooks
