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T R S Jul 2018
Goodnight my lovely deary
Living, lively, love I'll kiss your head

Good my soul so dearly
Lap my life and make me less dead

Good God my soul, so nearly
Leave a legend of life-built beds...

Goodbye my only, barely
Made a bed of dead straw and heads.
T R S Jul 2018
Let me see if I can find it
The burden in the tree
The bird that stole my heart
and took my soul from me
T R S Jul 2018
It turns out that the lady bugs that I found in my hair
Aren't there because they're lucky
It's in fresh air that they repair

I can walk much longer than those little tiny dregs
I wish I were more stronger
Or could climb on a monster with big legs

Maybe find a universe
Much more large than me
Someplace where I can feel so small
With a lot of place to be
T R S Jul 2018
I pretty sure I found some bugs in my pirate ship
Earwigs and some roaches are brimming at the hip
Sure it turns out would should have saved a lot more food
Because we are not the only life the lord determined good

So now I build a fire made out of barrel scraps
The whisky makes it higher and our work it does entrap

So give me a glass
a glass of water
I can only sip
I'm bare rehydrated
On the trip
On this pirate ship
T R S Jul 2018
I'm a walking keg of dynamite
Beg me then
I exploded

I'm loaded
It's a sickness bore by drinking
and thinking about the muddy lord

Pages and pages of rock bottom words
Sorting, listing minds on paper
Paperbuilt cages
Crusted now in the tears of men and women
I wanted a weekend of rest
But now after a month of pain I'm awful restless

Let's try to have a friendship dinner
I'll make your favorite food
As long as we find a way to both die
In way we both think feels good
T R S Jul 2018
I thought of a great idea:
to build candy infrastructure in my on rapture-based town

I frown on the fact of bad feelings
I grumble at her guardian's gate
Because lack of laughing is evil
Of all the things, it's just what I hate

I'll cook a grand dinner of viddles
I swear to God I'll do good
Because even though girl's speak in riddles
I still know that they need food
T R S Jul 2018
A life can be spent battling, to try to heal all sick men
And pen up such swine in a straw built ceiling

Turns out when pigs can destroy
When above you they try
to build the sties that they make

Instead of mud-straw
It's just saliva and stool
Cemented with the drool of dead stoolies.

I've fermented a brew, that taste like a stew
made out of beautiful life
But it smells saccharin sweet, not longer seems neat
No longer holds honor to actions.

So instead I'll build a faction in life that honors other factions of fate
Frats and Sorts that lack hate.
No longer berate something
just because it wants to be living.
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