hands on the wheel
steadily steering
off into the desolate land
of plastic and steel dissonance
the urge to jam down the pedal,
careen off of as many
of these bastards as possible
direct this projectile
to the heart of numbness
bumper cars
for the urban sports enthusiast
euthanizing
the carbon spewing monsters
with deadly intent
coffee burning
through near collapsed veins
all except
the one in my forehead
throbbing a song of death
too early to feel nothing
Mike's Manic Word Depot 
Jesus. That’s rough. Need a hug, man? I kinda wanna commit homicide too but I’ll get high instead.
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Lol. I was on the couch daydreaming. Once I’m in the car the music soothes the savagery
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Lol Thank fuck for music. And weed.
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Yes. Except when it is Death Grips and you are starting to rage.
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