My words don't Shake like William's, nor, do they Frost like Robert's. × My words barely lead the Way like Ernest's, nor, do they have Hughes like Langston's. × I don't know how much my Wordsworth like William's, nor, do my words keep people ******* like Edward's. × My words are far from an Angel like Maya's, and they are barely Lovecraft like Howard's. × Indeed I profess, my words cannot do those listed things, but, my words can be a great expression of me. × (sumairu•¶oetry)
I wish I could make her toes curl like the end of fitted sheets But i'll probably disappoint then like Fox's casting of Mystique I wish I could command attention without saying a word But to do that I'd have to have charisma, wait... what's that a bird? No it's a trait that I don't possess. I guess you can't correct a problem you don't know how to solve The truth is i'm so easily worn out I don't know what to do at all Not physically but socially, that batteries drained I'd complain but my lack of confidence weighs enough on my brain
But let's get back on track with this train I hope that I can make her squeal with a kiss and spill passion with a hug But I'd actually have to be desirable, unlike, say a Chagas bug. Hell the bug might have better luck than me I guess that's why I have to express myself lyrically Because my head goes one way and my mouth another Just forget it I'd be hopeless as a lover...
Heartless *****, Don’t worry they do love something That something is themselves
Heartless *****, spiked their life bringer into a flaming can
Heartless *****, watching the world from a cave.
Heartless *****, sleeping with friends. No benefits attached.
Heartless ***** doesn’t care if you like them
Heartless *****, actually delighted they’re messed up
How about you keep you’re mouth sewed shut and tear out your larynx. Words from that useless hole are hollow. Manipulation your mistress Depression your ***** You take and abuse and lie. Just chose one or the other you-
Heartless *****, Stay quiet, behave.
Heartless *****, do they even have a name?
Heartless *****, It’s still beating in the trashcan, cold. I am that Heartless *****
A little something I am finally posting after having finished it during my internship with The Atlas last summer. Enjoy!
You scratched the record And now my head is back on repeat It goes over that same beat Over and over again to the point where I don't even wanna attempt to speak
If silence is golden Then I'm the biggest known mine Because it feels as though I've been skating over myself when putting words into rhyme Always the same topics from me and not to interesting metaphors
You scratched it like a DJ on turntables because I'm winding up to the end of this fable, I can still write and I'm more than willing and able but I gotta stretch my muscles again before I lose the sharpness on my pen, that's my sword