concrete bloom 3

Street lights dead, now the sunrise look hostile

Jaw tight, fist balled, still mad spiral

Ash on the sink, paint drops on the gray tee

Broke mirrors last night, now the shards wanna fight me.

G minor in the rearview, grief still in rotation

Switched keys but the lock still rage-shaken

Had to bury old me in the backyard dirt

Funny thing is, I still feel him under my shirt

Street sweeper cleaning where the glass got shattered

New block, same scars, none of that mattered

Burned bridges for heat — that’s revenge and survival

Also how I learned who was gasoline vital

Concrete bloom where the shell case landed

Hope grow weird when your whole past damaged

Said “it left marks” — bullet holes, love bites, and memories

Now every scar on me got a separate energy

Fast cash, fast fists, slow recovery

Hate taste sweet when the pain is not a luxury

Penthouse view with a war in the lobby

Champagne pop sound like somebody got bodied

Window reflection look ready to swing back

Ghost in the glass saying “you still think that?”

I moved weight — yeah pain, plates, and product

Still throw blows at the wall when I’m honest

New day rising but the sky look bruised still

Sunlight hit me like a cop at a room fill

Half my old friends either dead or lost their minds 

Other half switched sides when the bui'ness closed blinds

Hot soul, cold sweats, dark humor coping

Carry rage tucked like a blade when I'm smoking

Had to cut dead weight — now the whole team lighter

Funny how loss turn a broke boy fighter

Blue Hour gone but the night still breathing

Anger in my chest got the ribs cave-creaking

Morning came clean but my hands still tired

Rebuilt myself colder but with a soul on fire