Haven't eaten in two days
Put it on blast
Im fasting on keys
This white girl keeps harrasing me
Lowkey i hate what its turned poor Ashley
Didnt mean to become what i said i wouldn't
Made fun of the ones who couldn't
Now i tell myself i shouldn't
But beg her to please shoot it
Highkey i love the ride it provides
Indulge my soul let it slip inside
No pain to when i puncture but i lie
Remind myself why
Then who
To where did i met and looked into her eyes
I sit there and conversate with the love of my life i guess im not straight lesbian crush on Crissy shes always on my mind and ill **** with her till the day i stop dreaming
Till the day i stop puffing and heaving
Basically stop breathing
My holy trinity

Somehow when she says "I love you" I picture her there,
Lying with the cosmos,
Pure bliss,
That same smile on her liqour lips

When she sings I get lost in a haze,
I feel the vibrations,
Hear her laughter in the sound waves,
I think if things are no different
Things would be no different.


Liquid love,
In one form or another,
Im pretty sure at this point shes a professional,
Shes got it down to a science precise down to the decimal,
Spite without a bite cant **** a toothless animal.

feeling kind of fruity
touch your skin up and down
kind of silly funny
breathing waving fanning
panting pajamas on the floor
*** and then talking about pokemon
and programming all at the same time
what a helluva time to keep the tumor
of existence lowkey

scooping blood instead of depression
out of my heart whenever i check
why im feeling so giddy

Baby, you got me spinning in outer space.
Baby, I’m digging your tasteful flavor.
You are stimulating my soul
with your flexing flow.
I’m feeling your growth.
Baby, you are making me glow.
I must admit that I’m lowkey loving you,
hoping that you will grow to love me too.

Baby, let’s take this thing to the next level.
Baby, I’m ready to settle in your space shuttle.
We can cuddle and create amazing chemistry together.
You can place your hands on my thighs
as we kiss and let the scene steam
and rise into a flaming ******.
Baby, I want to feel all your moves.
Please get into the groove.
We can soothe each other
and escape into nirvana.

Baby boy, let me explore your splendor.
Baby boy, let me seep into your poetic sweetness.
I’m so eager to tease your physique.
Give me a hot beat, and I’ll rock you nonstop.
I’ll be in your heart and finesse your flesh without pausing.
Let’s crash into splashing seas of passion.
Let the magic elevate to the max.
Let me come and collect your treasure.
Let me *** your intellect.
Baby, just relax and let me handle the rest.

Someone send me fifty cigarettes.
Keep me awake far past sunset.
Get the football on immediately
And make it a fiery affair.
Drown out this mop and bucket mouth.
Find me a guitar string to silence a theatre.
Strum all the chords in unison.
Whisper powerfully into the crowd's ear
About the journey to solar eclipse bliss.
Ignore the scattered failures,
Stamps on lamp-posts,
Brash stickers of the past,
Cornered in all that success.
Distraction from the looming task ahead.
Let the teaming rain return to my brain,
Where pie survives in cement,
Jackdaws squawk and talk of walks
Across the kissing couple hills
Instead of pizza orders set for ten.
Counting stock with matching socks.
Clocks are the enemy these days.
But they may be my best friend.

House party no contact
No glasses no lenses
Isolation got no facts
Rich in hope like them benz's

Old as **** like a bold fax
Reminiscin past tenses
Action done by the fences
Have I come I to my senses?

Need to know, ask for a census
Need my own vote call for elections
Lowkey mind-broke, I need a pension
Need to think about all this affection

****..

World cold stone cold
Was told It would be like this
Aint listened to them so I fold
Now I see myself down this own road.

The me everybody used to see, erode
The me anybody could be, be sold
Sadness pull up to my corners, be shown
The one who blew y'all away be blown

Everybody leavin faster than I can say hello
People in this world so shaky like a tremolo.
People don't come and go no more.
You just save up and they go forth.

At least that's my reality
Maybe I am insanity
No sleep till 2 am
You see it visually
Can't rest till these thoughts are at ease.

Life fallin faster than dominos
This time aint as good as pizza
Not even close rate negative 10 toes
No feelings like terminator hasta la vista.

Seen a lot like a barista
More people snakes than cheetah's
Venomous like cobras.
Sad **** I got into.
Me, myself and my sorry ***.

I had a seventh grader tell me, when I was in 5th grade, that things go downhill after 5th grade - that life doesn’t get better, it just gets more complicated. I’ve had years to mull that over and I have to say that in some ways his testimony was on beat.

As we start the second half of sophomore fall semester, I think I’ve reached stability and I’m accustomed to this year’s schedule and workload. I haven’t surveyed whether I’m faster or slower in this (see below), but now I know all the tricks - where to eat, which paths to take and what to carry. I have a firm rhythm that’s consistent and insistent.
“I’m finally on my schedule.” I commented to Sunny yesterday morning as we collided in our dash to get our shoes on.
She looked at me in confusion “You know we’re on week 8 out of 15, Ya?”
I was shocked, “I hadn’t thought of it that way,” I admitted as we stepped out.

It’s midnight and we’re going (Peter, Lisa, Sophie and I) to “My ****” tonight (the dorm basement snack-bar). I took two seconds to splash my face with water and twist-back my hair. “How do I look?” I asked Peter.
“You’re attractive.. enough,” he said, “..I mean you fall within a bell curve.”
“You're almost 40,” I say, in the face of his non-complement.
“I’m 26,” Peter said, “You know it, and I have proof. You DO have some good points though,” he granted, while trying to drape his great, hairy, gorilla-like arm on me, “there’s your sparkling conversation and nice underwear.”
“I donated those to goodwill,” I lied, while giving him a half-gentle stiff-arm.
“You remind me of my parents,” Sophie says.

The tea (the best tea is scandalous). Lisa’s friend Baker dashed back to her room between classes yesterday. She’d forgotten the big paper she had to turn-in. It was a mad dash and passing a roommate’s open door, she realized that the girl was lowkey *******. Lisa, delighted to be an interlocutor in the matter, due to Baker’s overplus embarrassment, Lisa's trying to suggest next steps in a post-shock protocol.

1) (insert dessert name for skin here)
2) mysterious hair goddesses
3) the back wall of a hip hop video
4) temptresses of your own design
5) the entire land ruled by drama queens
6) your lowkey fantasy
7) your direct blame
8) the subset of a subset of a stereotype
9) the loud and proud
10) the celestial bodies walking through your neighborhoods
11) the only magic act you can see again and again and still not know how it works
12) not the Madea or the Precious, but somehow still the Madea and the Precious
13) trees banding together for the sake of their own leaves AND to sustain the forest

**~~a.s.f.

Leong dreamt of meeting Jesus,
at the Koffee coffee shop.
It was early and not too busy,
so they had a chance to talk.

He was well dressed and looked quite nordic,
which was a surprise to her at first.
“Because we all know he was born in China
and Beijing the city of his birth”

At first, he kept it casual,
he talked a lot about his dad,
but he began to be rather judgey,
as some religious people can.

When he asked her for her digits,
she was put off by his entitled vibe.
In the end he got fake-numbered.

“It was a lowkey way to decline,
and both pacify the “boss’” son,
and keep him on her side.”