"Choose your battles wisely"
That's what every they say repeatedly
Could never naysay exclusively
But could say it absolutely might turn gale force to breezy
It would earn a win column that's mostly empty,
Some much needed tally marks in a hurry, though not in a flurry
Admittedly, that's not necessarily necessary nor would it come anywhere near a reality
Because honestly, even a visionary wouldn't be able to foresee a victory
It's looking to be mostly negativity
As far as the third eye can see
So the convoluted parlor tricks hit particularly sloppy
A complete absence of accuracy
The glass crystal ball looking back blindly
Really, all that's needed is to recap some history
Finding quickly,
A guess holds the same weight as that forgery
More importantly
Pay attention,
Who holds the pen
And
Who writes the story

©2024

the acid talk really put me onto you
the specifics did it. precision cement.
the way you fill the silence, violently
**** victim defender. defender of what?
if you stuck to one version of your rules
you'd hear your disgusting tongue, you
would taste what you say and purge

you were in so many places at once
you touched the stars. drank in bars.
according to your true story account
the child soldier. soldiered psych wards.
for all that i know, i know no more truth
i know, i know, i know i let you in but i
can't truly know such an obvious liar
nor believe it in my core that you're a friend

what do you want from me?
the steel trap that memorized my paychecks
what do you want from me?
the cancer factory that steals all my class A's
what do you want from me?
what do you want?

your verse your version
infects my art

never have i ever been so tempted to spend
money over the internet

much too much too
curious

Reading through your beautiful words,
My tears begin to fall.
Sloppy, wet, all over my desk;
I'd never let anyone see me this way.
Because when I'm like this,
There isn't anything you can do.
I'm feeling too much at this point,
And you may as well just leave me alone.

Reading your lovely words,
My tears are now streaming.
Drenched, sopping, my shirt is soaked;
I'd never let anyone see me this way.
Because when I'm like this,
Even I can't do anything.
I'm overwhelmed at this point,
And I may as well not even try to stop.

Reading your sweet words,
My tears are pouring down.
Flooded, sloshing, my room is filled.
I'd never let anyone see me this way.
Because when I'm like this,
I can't breathe, and my head spins.
I'm falling in love with every word,
And I may as well keep reading.