Rumors of my demise are just premature prophecy by Ezhno Martin

I don't want to keep smoking in my apartment

and I really don't want to keep smoking

but I'm scared of my neighbors

and everyone in general

that might make eye contact

and look disappointed in me

like I am in myself 

but cigarettes 

and off brand 12 packs 

are the closest I can get to friends these days

so I just can't stop

it's easy to say

I drink because of you

and since regrets make sleeping hard

I need these cigarettes

to light up the night

and that would be all your fault too

but in the end

I'm just addicted

and I'm not interested in moving on from that place

so I'll just keep drinking and smoking

until I die

or decide to get help

You would be wise to wager

on my demise

Samantha

It's a real shame

we aren't' speaking

I got inside information

of the surest bet

on a death wish

Ezhno is a feral misshaped mass of broken dreams that doesn't believe in pronouns and would prefer to just be called “Ezhno.” This is equal parts ideology, loneliness, and the fact that it's been a while since anyone screamed “Ezhno” during sex. People just aren't as loud and adventurous as we think they used to be back when we were younger and better at everything. Ezhno is a freak who makes books for freaks via EMP Books, obsesses about a certain New York Basketball Team, and takes long urban hikes in the middle of the night. Ezhno has substituted god with a ghost who goes by Samantha, and the prayers for forgiveness have yet gone unanswered. Do not introduce your dog to Ezhno; they will be licking each-other's teeth, biting each-other's necks, pissing on your clothes, and stealing food off of your counter within five minutes.