Her soul is blind
As her body is imperfect
Her stretch marks were written in coded language
She’s so pure that she’s toxic.
Braille:
Only passionate readers understood her vibe…her stories.
Written in coded language of cracked walls and extorted minds
You know... Extorted minds.
Extorted the way we extort morphine to coke fiends
Cracked walls. Matching the cracked walls of our unity.
Can you read her?
Can you, dig deep and fill a human being with that
Refreshing feeling we should all get after engaging in a
Dope *** intellectual conversation.
Read her, fluently.
Intelligence is so attractive.
But…after talking for hours it’s apparent that your mind is shallow.
I don’t know what’s left to do.
Tell me…How long has it been since someone has touched you entirely
Without having to actually touch you?
How long has it been since you’ve silenced your mind?
& let your mind be where it already is.
Leave it alone. It’ll quiet itself.
Her soul is blind.
Her mind is hungry.
Seeking the unknown.
Deep in the depths of what doesn’t need to be retrieved.
She wonders how far tomorrow is.
Today is an illusion.
She is not worried.
Her soul is blind.