contaminated

This is not finalized; it's longer than three minutes. But after a couple months, it's got a finished draft. I slammed it at the March qualifier - low score: 9.9.


I could fuck your brains out – if I don't blow mine out first
the saddest thing about it I don't know which is worse

I've made enough mistakes that I'm finally gotten clarity
and I want to be clear, you, you should be scared of me
I used to be a fat kid, low self-esteem, and it shows
now I put in work so I know you'll like what I got in these clothes
and I swear, I'm burnin' inside, so I ride red lined, ready to explode
if you're ready to go, I will touch the bottom and curl your toes,
and show you things you did not know you didn't know
see, if I'm focused and stroking, I don't feel broken
I feel whole if I can leave your body lying smokin
we can can get dirty, nasty, raw, just spanking and choking
or we can keep it clean and sweet but its still just mean
because I am in some way shape or form contaminated
I have alienated every single girl I have ever dated
I can call em up but they just never seem to be home
it's always “please leave a message after the tone”
-look, I'm not calling stalking I don't care who you're screwing
I just, want to talk – I want to see how you're doing
I don't understand caring about each other so much
and somehow now we don't even keep in touch
but I get it, I know why you're gone, and don't talk back
I'm filled with filth, I spread poison, and that is a fact

so I could fuck your brains out, or just kill myself
both of these choices seem as good as anything else

I've got this evil toxic pollutin confusion, similar to when
usin slides inside and turns into abusin, because by then
you're drowning in poison that's drip drop pooling in my mind
I can't swim and there's nicotine chimes keeping tar and oil time
to the crackling of all the black oil fires and funeral pyres
my gray matter is stinking toxic nauseous burning tires
so inside I am obscene, all festering sores and gangrene
marijuana masochism and meditation are just smokescreens
to hide the dark I carry locked up inside, and I spread it
I think it's under control, but I let it out and infected
everyone I care about, like my presence is an injection
of misery and madness that sends everyone running, I get it
my temples are pounding with the sound of all the people
I care about thinking it's better when I'm not around
I didn't mean to burn bridges with my old flames, it's proof
of the truth – that I'm a dirty martini with no vermouth
missing something basic – it's obvious when I face it
I don't trust, I'm not happy, and I can't fake it
so I'm a human fucking infection, and I can't take it


sure, I could fuck your brains out, but I should blow mine out first
and I'm so sick of myself that I don't even know which is worse

I stand up here pretending that I'm some kind of poet
but I'm just a freak of nature fuck up, and I know it
the poisons in my own brain are driving me insane
they make me into a crazed spider trapped in chains
so again and again, I spread love and spit venom
into anyone who lets me past their protective denim
I'll pull you in with my style, and drive you wild
but you better run like hell from the cracks in my smile
I'm not ready for love, I'm matches to a gasoline kiss
and I gotta go before I explode, because something's gotta give
I can't keep all this bullshit bottled up inside myself
but I don't want to spread this shit to anybody else
and I only feel right when you come so hard you're beside yourself
so let's pick a third path, and try a little something else

I won't kill myself, or fuck your brains out if you let me know
you're loving the fucking you're getting from my mouth