Flying with white dead

I was there in the middle of the car sodden of the evil smoke. My head was divided in my emotions. I hearted them since back seat improvising their down town rap, and I could ascertain it. My brain almost sere by the lighter could identified how stupid was that, and I felt myself like nothing. I remembered those green and mature eyes at 1:30 Pm. Those eyes who just looked at me with that empty shame; and it is normal, People have already seen me like that, like real garbage. Another time; another time again. My head repeats that bland rap. It is like a virus around my body and my thoughts. A sickness in my tired soul. Gram for a kiss while all night in clouds means a thousand times Messed for his arms. Tomorrow is going to be another day, or I hope that.