Do not mistake the art
for the artist
if you're trying at all
you're trying the hardest

im the son of a gun, speak my name and i'll shoot
a bullet **** smoke, left the cover in soot
the ensuite ensured entropy disabled
disaster dictates what destruction enabled
they ramble and sweat, their decisions are rash
through brambles, and yet, all others were trash

I write logs and graph our calls
I guess I couldn't hear the fly
slowly writing on the walls
your cursive eludes me, why?
What goes around didn't come back this time
but when entropy reverses our cold breath
and you **** me back in, I'd like to meet death
I'm sweating now; but, I won't die a heat death

in crati gula /te
from graticulate
on the fence
between your horizontal
below and above your vertical
I am divided
I am de-vi-de
6

psychobaths vs stinkophrenics

Behold!

a fool dressed as you remember he

but did you know him? or did you know of him?

he'll let go of the coattails that once led

and be left behind.

my ------- grows and blossoms once more
though at this point I am no longer sure
just what was that moment that finally said
we'd be better off never, we'd be better off ----

I continue to water and tend to its root
with dirt covered hands my heart follows suit
the soot grime like lacquer left stains on my soul
training my scene as my choices take toll