another go around
knowing all that we do now
and didn't know then
refile more cohesively

sorry for being so distant
I can get lost
swept up in an instant
there are many things to which I've been resistant
elements of self
extra spicy/ persistent
exhausting /  indifferent

so sorry my story a little gory
don't wanna worry ya
don't wanna bore ya
no worries I am a warriyah
its just my story ya
let it all pass (through)
or it'll bury ya
now out with the burier
masquerading as barren,
oh how empty
                             in here
                  lies
cowardice behind barriers
barricading
but a battered warden
of buried burdens,  
burdens buried long ago
better get along
I gotta  get to digging

in deep

which slimy tunnel.
haven't I creeped
getting tired of this
spirits and stories
I can dig for eternities
see, so shoveling may too eternal be
time fly by
nigh time
to stand by
ignite my  
                  //burial grounds
dare block me from the true Earth
one day to bury me

posthumous writings, published by me.

need a budget and a rhyme for that
in a flow don't wanna fudge it
all I know is I've had my hunches
back at it on some crutches
can I get some dutch-ish
what it be
i am the dutchess
wearing many crowns
all on it slotting, allotting
the Budgetress

bottom lines
miles wide
when it's all flowing
bottomless lines
I don't know what its  all for
just some of it
and if I do say so then
that's progress
and I do

her majesty's jester
get all the words out in the open
not let them fester

yesterday's passed don't press her
there's a you inside there
you oppressed her

feelings come and pass
trust is meant to last
you wanna test her?

something angelic surrounds me
hard to commit
when you can't even sit
with your self

need a budget and a rhyme for that

I don’t want to be a princess.
I prefer to be a wall
or a shoulder
that some one can lean on
I don’t want to be spoiled
I want to
fight
Get dirt on my clothes
Clean them
search more
fail more
know more
see everything
Try everything
I want to share the road
With some one
Running not carried
I want to look behind
And see MY footprints.

There are pauses in between musical notes and stops between an artist's strokes and periods in between a writer's sentences. We have come to an end. We have come to a stop. But sometimes the only way to continue is to halt. The only way to begin is to end.

- apbq, pauses and stops