Addition & subtraction, smoke blunts with God. Get satisfaction, I write poems about hating myself. Yet I don't change. And no matter how many times a day I hate summer, the climate stays the same. When all I would have to do...is move. Pack up my things go.
PowerPoint of the sixth day of creation. When God wept for the nations, I sat back & smiled. The realization of miss communication. We don't have to stay here, when you can just **** yourself. Mix my ashes with the pages of old bibles, trace the ruins of old fathers. That claimed they love their daughters but turned away too soon. Father's Day is coming up, pops I bought you a balloon. Filled with my thoughts. I pop it every single night. I mean it's only been 9 years since the last time that I saw you. Spoke to you. Pleas I'll smoke with you, roll up my sleeve and get cracked with you. Please just look at me, the way dads are suppse to. He cracked my jaw today, I'll write about the pain when I remember how to describe it. I thought it was emotional abuse, and then I found the bruises on my body. Come to find out I've been lying to myself, what a hobby.