A mutant hung above the shack I called my own.
Crocodile fangs and bangs.
Wishing I was a creature like her,
she asked me to follow her to the sewers.
Being forsaken never looked so charming.
I liked her, so I followed.
She took me down.
She fed me snake blood and I mixed it with *****.
We crept and crawled through the filth
in search of hints to our own meaning.
She explains to me that in the sewers,
time and space become illusions,
and now is all that matters.
My shoulders began to sprout little nodes
that turned to feathers,
that turned to wings.
But I didn’t know yet how to fly.
She led me out of the sewers
and grabbed my by the hand.
She kissed me on the cheek
and as she flew away she said,
"Tomorrow we can learn to fly."

Often plain will stain Greatness
That which stood so long without
Now can barely hold the word
The word is like tape with no stick left
Merely a shadow of what once was
And if pushed on very hard
There are days it sticks
Still that word quickly falls
Like a placid old *******
Lost the meaning of the word Great
Yet it still stands in all its useless glory
Too proud to sit the **** down
Admit that life…is always shity
Yet we smile
We smile until it hurts
To prove that importance is second
Because sometimes it's good to remember that happiness
Can hurt to reach for in the hands of others
Not because of anything
It is just the price of flying