No Title (Chase Fontenot-Lafayette, LA)

I noticed my chipped tooth when I woke this morning.
Shows the sad fucking truth 
that I haven’t smiled in a fortnight.
Porch light left on, collared carelessness left it all desolate
Couldn’t process my expression to possess all my recklessness

Whatever, I don’t care
Call me a fucking sinner
Quick to throw salt bitch 
Because you were a born winner?
I’m still eating tv dinners
with my loser friends so
try catch up to me
fucking bully, part of the party
that sucks up on his knees
while trees burn, heads turn
you always learn in the end
its not about your fucking sins
its what you do with them

Crass classy cats pitying the glassy pupil pill poppers
They are the show stoppers, globetrotters, popular if hot or cold
I'm breaking the mold, common stories aren't reported that escort
Simple lyricists to spread fear into the inquisitors, insane with no visitors
By the time I hit the hill and have to sip my last meal and take baby Advil 

Fuck that, I'll climb over the ant hill and order a raw steak with a milkshake to give you fucking headache
And to prove your silver spoon 
That you hold so fucking dear
Is only a fast car in your backyard 
With no way to steer

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