The sativas my tie to new hights. When the meds in the head life is right. Light up the J, that mind bending haze. So high existence is futile, finally freed from this daze. Dank so loud, great nuggets of fame. I'm as green as the leaf in my piece. Mid morning snack, afternoon delight. hits from the **** puts me to zzz's.
Feb 22, 2013
Feb 22, 2013 at 7:01 PM UTC
Fresh wounds of recent realization conjoined to the weathered scars of regret.
Gashes opposing multitude, otherwise deep while of illest intent.
Wounds forged by life itself.
A blade driven home by the flick of a loose tongue concealing words unspoken.
Scars held past vision.
Rather a mental centerpiece
Hardly recognized yet stationed in plain sight.
Evident only to the scrutiny of kin or to whom committed to pry.
Dec 17, 2012
Dec 17, 2012 at 10:49 PM UTC