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BreathLessInkPoems
Mind flips like aces / deck ain’t stacked—it’s cursed Rabbit ran but I reversed / chase the clock till time’s coerced Hat too loud for hush / grin stitched with fury finesse Drawl pulls teeth from truth / I don’t speak—I compress I skip through mirrors with boots in bloom / logic’s looted, tethered tomb Southern slang on shroomed syntax / I bend reality just to make it room Teacup scalded with rebel steam / slurp chaos when the world don’t dream Pocket watch don’t tick for me / I punctuate pain with rural gleam Hatter but no haberdashery / scars dressed sharp in auditory Wordplay thick like swamp at dusk / I spit static with auditory rush I don’t rap—I incant rage / every verse is stage and cage I craft metaphors with serpents’ teeth / spit sermons stitched in glitch and grief I’m madder than most but I balance the burn Drawl stays sly while the syllables churn Tea party’s dead—I just feast on the void Truth twisted tight like toys I destroyed No name, no face, just venom and spit Madness ain’t flair—it’s the way I commit If Wonderland flips, I flip first Trap soul in flow, then grind in verse Top hat packed with paradox / Southern slang slick like shadowbox I punch lines through paradox / my syntax spits when clocks get locked Verse bends time like metal warped / cadence cleaves like tongues torqued Y’all wear fame—I wear flame / my drawl defies and distorts Hooked on ink and impact scars / I rhyme in scars and rebel bars If thought was straight, I'd twist it / I load rhyme clips and risk it Ain’t sane, ain’t sorry, just sulfurous joy I rap like silence is something to destroy I ain’t the hat—I’m the storm beneath I speak in riddles, rot, and wreath If Wonderland lost me, good— I’m busy carving verses they misunderstood
0
Aug 20, 2025
Aug 20, 2025 at 1:39 PM UTC
Madder then the hat I ware
Mind flips like aces / deck ain’t stacked—it’s cursed Rabbit ran but I reversed / chase the clock till time’s coerced Hat too loud for hush / grin stitched with fury finesse Drawl pulls teeth from truth / I don’t speak—I compress I skip through mirrors with boots in bloom / logic’s looted, tethered tomb Southern slang on shroomed syntax / I bend reality just to make it room Teacup scalded with rebel steam / slurp chaos when the world don’t dream Pocket watch don’t tick for me / I punctuate pain with rural gleam Hatter but no haberdashery / scars dressed sharp in auditory Wordplay thick like swamp at dusk / I spit static with auditory rush I don’t rap—I incant rage / every verse is stage and cage I craft metaphors with serpents’ teeth / spit sermons stitched in glitch and grief I’m madder than most but I balance the burn Drawl stays sly while the syllables churn Tea party’s dead—I just feast on the void Truth twisted tight like toys I destroyed No name, no face, just venom and spit Madness ain’t flair—it’s the way I commit If Wonderland flips, I flip first Trap soul in flow, then grind in verse Top hat packed with paradox / Southern slang slick like shadowbox I punch lines through paradox / my syntax spits when clocks get locked Verse bends time like metal warped / cadence cleaves like tongues torqued Y’all wear fame—I wear flame / my drawl defies and distorts Hooked on ink and impact scars / I rhyme in scars and rebel bars If thought was straight, I'd twist it / I load rhyme clips and risk it Ain’t sane, ain’t sorry, just sulfurous joy I rap like silence is something to destroy I ain’t the hat—I’m the storm beneath I speak in riddles, rot, and wreath If Wonderland lost me, good— I’m busy carving verses they misunderstood
Written by
BreathLessInk
36/M
Aug 20, 2025
Aug 20, 2025 at 1:39 PM UTC
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