everyone told me
LA was the mission,
can’t say
you’ve made it
if you ain’t out
and about
in the cali lights,
walk down the street
to see the paps and vlogs,
unwind at the palace
out in calabasas,
they play it up
on paper
only to break you
when you make it
out there.
thought i found the one
but it was a ruse,
felt the heartbreak
in la brea,
and i drank my pain away,
all i remember
was the splitting headache
the very next day,
hope the cameras
didn’t catch that act,
better avoid the tabloids
when i come back.
is this what it’s all
cracked up to be?
or is it a cruel,
sick joke,
one where the soul’s sucked,
forget the whole reason
you came out
in the first place
because you’re wasting away,
finding ways
to suppress the pain
while the world watches
and follows every trace.
i wish they’d look elsewhere.
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