We're all little Lucifers
Disgraced and fallen
Yet somehow still bearing light
And the four-fold word
Of secrecy, blasphemy
Might quite be love
Or maybe Eden
The illusion that somehow
Eases our tragedy
And still there are those
Hell-bent on progress
As if they were aliens
(Perhaps they are)
The tower is toppling
With windows of fire
See them jump and scream
Till all that's left is rubble
And I left, eye wide open
Came back, astonished
They had rebuilt it
Stacking slander like pancakes
Atop the salamander
It somehow stays in place
And lightning doesn't strike twice
(Perhaps it does)
Well, start anew is pretty hard
When they're taxing herbs
With greeting cards
And while the sylph circles
And the nymph swims below
I can't tell whose side they're on
Where did all the warm blood go

I know what kind of face I should make.
Tracing my mind without any place that I could call my home.
I shouldn't be crying between nightmares,
knowing how I should look and what I have to do.
So, I'll continue be in the abyss.

All I can do is to imagine,
that someday this cursed life would come to an end.
Running and falling down, embracing the pain that doesn't heal.
The world is waiting for this moment to come.

Tender emotions that's creating a bug,
consequences made for obeying.
Fragile thoughts while risking my life,
not a single word was spoken.

Uncertain voices are whispering deep inside,
beyond the spiral that I can reach for a helping hand.
I wish I could move forward,
Pursuing to be strong and yet I'm all alone.

This pitch-black bottom of the night will surround me,
deep inside this endless maze.

Do you see me in a mess?
Pathetic as it is, more or less.
Just like a corpse without a soul inside,
I am nothing.

I wander if,    
             When he,
                    Fell,
                        Did he scream,
                              Did he yell,
                                     Was he heart broken,
                                               D
                                                I
                                               D
                                           Tears fall
                                                 D
                                                    O
                                                       W
                                                           N
                                                              His cheeks,
                                               When his own father,
                                                        Banished him,
                                                            To Hell,
                   GOD DO YOU MISS HIM? ARE YOU SO SICK INSIDE THAT THE ANGEL YOU CREATED IS CAPABLE OF SUCH HORROR.

Maybe your mothers and fathers do not know right from wrong
Maybe those that birth you cannot tell real from unreal
The apples do not fall far from the trees that we know all along
So no surprise when off-springs and all fall into the reel
Unable to decipher the lost and damaged from their midst adorn

My mother washed me in truth, honesty, sincerity and real love
That's the only path that graces the soul and makes humanity
So all my life I know what's real, true, honest from all else above
You walk your path and serve your gods in all their profanity
Your festered minds and putrid brains is not like mine thereof

In superficial abodes, your falseness lies fakery has confused you
No truth or honesty exists all around only deceits and raw fear
You rot from the inside and feed from poison not breastmilk too
from start you're ******, your brains from chemicals they rear
Spooks with semblance no substance, serving satan them born fools

I know what's real what's true what's honest and sincere or not
That is me from real bosoms raised in edifying values not falsity
Come in thousands you stink from a mile off satan demons squat
Sincerity truthfulness if erred makes amends not sit discordantly
Real Humanity embraces love and peace not mortal duels that's fact

From negativity you drink in darkness lies your bread and joy
miseries and fears you seek to share cause your souls lies in pain
In cancerous fears you scheme and plot your ****** evils ploys
Cause it destroys you to see goodness whilst your souls' in chain
Weak corrupted dark and damaged subjugated to lucifers noise

Gnarled old wrinkled before your years you envy my young looks
Borne of inner joy and unafraid pious calm pathetics  spit zombie
Too sick to know a clear conscience never pines or fears like crooks
Pure and noble emotions caters no dirt or negativities like loonies
Dignity and integrity offers granite to malevolent duds and hooks

I.

All I can say is that it is a hum
Reverberant, droning, consistent
Quiet thrumming along the surface
Stirs me awake and then it fills me with
Ichor and I sip, sip, and sip (until I'm drunk).

All I can say is that it is a hum,
Quiet droning, a hushed whisper,
Loud screaming inside the head,
A piercing headache, sometimes a discordant wail.

II.

You sit on the porcelain lip of the tub
Hooded eyes lowered, your fingertips
Pressed together like the steeple of a church

I think: Yes, this is what Renaissance painters modeled angels after. Your skin is like a rose-tinged alabaster, your cheeks Suffused with blood. The painter took a measured time with you.

"Do you honestly think you'll be okay on your own?" You ask.

Silence, she greets you.

III.

Hasn't my mother violently
Ejected me from the nest
I'm only a few months old, a nestling
Wings awkward and clumsy
Beak agape for masticated food
(I'm not ******* ready yet)
Ejects me
Her beak threatens to pierce my shell

This is dejà vu.
I've conversed before
Different room, different domain,
Different speaker, a sicker listener
I'm as sick, sick as **** now

Mind, she hums, crescendo
Crescendo high like a choral piece
Orchestral, and this is resplendent
Everything is gleaming
Your face encased in a soft glow
Halo of light
Your face, cherubic,
His face, Romanesque, was sculpted like a Bronze Age statue.

"Your mother didn't give you the right set of tools. My mother at least gave me–" he falters.

IV.

I remember calling the ex 28 times in the span of 2 hours.
The policeman, he counted.
Thrashing on the floor, weeping like Persephone must've in Hades, like a fallen Mortal reborn as a minor goddess
Stripped me, he did though, of my wings
Avian feathers streaked with years-old blood

My tears, why yes, they're bleeding rivulets.
My ****-brown eyes alight on the bleach
Yes, sweet death

"Stop calling me. I'm ******* another ***** right now," the ex says.

V.

Memory is so faded,
Plays like a scratched and worn cassette tape

Mind is a-humming, humming, my mind is
Orchestral choir, church choir, Pentecostal
Now, I eat ichor, ravenous, now I am Closer to God and she is a woman,  
Draped in funeral attire
She weeps, soundless, a Seer

"I don't know," I say.

"The med isn't working," you reply
Cherubic face shifts and morphs
Melts into soft glow light,
One with the halo, is the halo

Nothing makes sense, everything else does too. My mind races, cassette tapes
Whirs, skips, images flash, I weep
Weep like Sisyphus
Eyes spilling rivers of penny-tinged
Crimson, sanguine ichor

One day he'll taste it and hate me,
Loathe me, the jade-eyed serpent
Poison-fanged
I'll clutch his scales until my fingers are Cut, welts, mottled bruises, fading scars
I will be punished, am punished
The illness, the eternal Boulder on the eternal hill, it rolls and rolls, my mouth agape

I await my cyclic fate ordained by the Higher God

VI.

How many men have I lured into the chamber?
Drunk on sweet wine or mead?
Petrified into osseous
Their gazes failing to avert from my Penetrative stare?

He was an errant General, beautiful but stupid, his mind a one way road, his temper unpredictable and flighty
Oh, how I loved the duality of him
We philosophized
Theorized on the Gods
Laughed at their follies
Wondered at the mysteries of the universe, Her deep annals

Oh, how I loved the physicality of him
Tight, corded muscle, his back like a Wound spring, Bronze hand
Grasping a silver sword

Hark! His rounded shield is lifted, my hideous reflection stares back at me
My eyes, widened, the cup of manna Clatters, soundly in the chamber
Reverberates
Bounces off my throne of skulls

How many men have I–?

VII.

"Can you honestly say that you can take care of yourself?" You ask from the place atop the lip of the porcelain tub. Your hands, a steeple, a church spire
Perhaps, you are a lesser God, perhaps we are all falling Lucifers, wingless, blinded by vengefulness and betrayal
Perhaps, he too is–?

"Am I an infant to you?" I ask.
The headache splits
The pain demands, claws at the side of my skull, dances across my nerves, liquid iron on my tongue

Because when did I?

Oh, Sisyphus you weep! You, who slaughtered so many!

Oh, Medusa, you wept, you beautiful serpentine harlot, you *****, you–
The choir is a strong crescendo, Ascending, ascending, ascending
Lowers like a thrumting and heavy bellow
Deep, rich, and full, timbre

"Everyone, all your life has said you were crazy, but I don't think you are, I–"

VIII.

The tapes skip, voices garbled, muffled, Indiscernible and distorted
Mind shrieks, lower now, quieter now, Barely audible, a fading whisper, your halo Recedes, soft glow dims

Your hands separate, the steeple, no, the Spire collapses.
Held breath hitches,
Serpentine tendrils become wisps of hair, Cloudlike

We are lesser gods, not quite mortal, not quite divine

The itch demands to be felt, protests
And I, I scream endless into a dark chasm
My voice, it does not call back to me
It does not–

"I don't know."

Fire in turn can caress or can burn
but
of the elemental forces it is
fire that courses through these veins where madness reigns,
Knighted in blood and wearing a hood made from Sulphur and steel,match me,
come catch me aflame,come feel the heat in the game we call strife.
Life can be hot
depends who you've got for your friends,
asbestos tends to deflect me,
do I
detect that in you?

I live in hell
The underworld
Because I once fell
I didn't take it well

Bitterness is what everyone sees
Some say my heart may as wll freeze
All day I can hear these desperate pleas
And sharp words, meant to do more than just tease


Why, I never realised
The solitude
And loneliness I despised
Helped me staying disguised

That's why
My words drip venom
And cut like a knve
The burn like lemon
In a wound to thrive

That's why
I inflict pain
Although I gain nothing
Except disdain
So I try to keep on laughing

That's why
I never complained
It wouldn't make sense
I am left restrained
I'll never stop being tense

I am as pure and divine as God's fallen angel
and my mind runs riots sometimes
I feel the Rogue Creature coarse through my veins
Lucifers being takes hold of my own
leads me down the unforsaken roads
and then I'm left alone
lost in the realms of death and despair
but you know
I'm not religious
and I'm begninning to believe
that all of this is not as it seems
and your declerations of love
mean nothing when they come
from the heart and mouth
of a drunken paramour
and it is apparent only now
that my own personal Hell
has been derived by you
all along

I gave everything I had and you just let it all blow away in the wind,
like nothing had ever crossed our once star struck paths, I was struck in the heart,
That blow should've killed me,
I shouldve drowned in the open sea
But you resuscitated me
I would have died you see
I can't look in your eyes
I know that's  were my heart once lied, ,
I begged for you to be,
One hundred percent true to me
But you couldn't be
You hurt me
Left me bleeding into the ground
So lucifers hungry souls could feast
You were an evil beast
I miss the warmth and peace

Do you remember the melody
Your heart once sang with me
It was a masterpiece
It was truly unique
The gods bowed their heads in the presence
I used my last regrets
I promised That I wouldn't forget
That song that we once sang
Ill remember that day

When I saw you leave
It was so hard but so full of relief
I was sad for days
I resented the month of may
On may 28th
We'd sang out song
I remember how you smiled
I had felt at home for awhile
But you had evicted me

Do you remember the melody
Your heart once sang with me
It was a masterpiece
It was truly unique
The gods bowed their head in the presence
I used my last regret
I promised I wouldn't forget
That song that we once sang
I'll remember that day

The maniac , manic depressive walking city streets , world inverted , diving head first into the blue separation where night verses day , darkness at war with the light of the world . Gray day inversions , deprivations , tainted perception , misconception and miscalculations .. Bright eyes remit their focus ! The child loses his way . Incapacitated . Confused . Yet intent , focused on the garden of good and bad , temptation , righteousness ! Sexuality . Lasciviousness . Piety surrounded by Lucifers minions ! Crocodiles await the migration of wildebeest , rainbow trout tread turbid water for their afternoon meal , mourning dove to field of millet ! Bewildered sweet spirit reduced to crying in supplication , misunderstood , longing for the path by the light ! Traversing mean streets like the rat , the security of a structure to one side , on a high state of alert ! Pawn of the citizenry , cardboard empire and the bottom feeders . Catfish pawning for dung , corruption amidst the sea of inequity . Images flying point blank , a thousand miles an hour ! Shoot him dead ! Continue killing him long after his last breath . Send him back to the blue , where Angels await !

In twilight sounds of Louis Prima,
I blast the clouds of milky *****,
Loosies falling through  cracked plastic casings. The leather race.
The skin race. Mother Goose's shoes gave me a ******* for starving
Innocent women children- how I love
All. The lintels excisions' forgiven,
My libations intended for an astronaut of solemn jazz solos.

Puking narrative, out a gentle cough gives way.
To the colors of Mars candy bar caramel coatings. How we gloat.
Glowing of paradigms, distraught by the quiet ring of the cup & string.
Earned from an evening of perfervid pervert cacophonies
Often where I where the shoes with backs cut from shreds,
I know have uneven shreds. The Dead plastique of alligator cleats.

Ichbarken, lucifers *** drawings of Darwin, making alive the living Room shackles where I pack backpacks of narrow-minded princess Girlfriends, and I
Trespass reason for every hedonistic reason I please.
Whilst I onward huddle(belly out) guarding the Heraldic heretics of
Every disgruntled guilty Jewish mother- hands and toes I nibbled on.

My name is The Bill, and I am fasteeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee­eeeeeeeeer than goblets of lye which decompose wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww­wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww­wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww­wwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

i wish I could've told you
how sorry i am
for letting someone like you
give even your physical aspects to me
you dont play in your sins
but tonight you found something so unholy to touch
and im so sorry for tempting you
you promised me that you never thought i was that bad
just a troubled teenager stuck in her ways
but did i tell you about how good i knew you could be for me ?
it troubles me
because i care about you
my touch will only burn you in the end
and you will have wasted your love on
lucifers beloved daughter
and gods unowned deciple
you said im an angel
but did your forget these wings were made of broken hearts too?
i'd hate for it to be you
do yourself a favor
i know you have a flavor for the devils candy
but dont ever let those holy hands touch this trashcan of sins again
i wont stop you
until you have nothing left of yourself
don't forsake the pain

it’s saturday night and it’s that time of the week
when all the days disappear into diapers of new births squatting
with umbilical chord necklaces,
i open horace’s book, maxim something then close it:
‘too pedantic,’ i think then say it:
pictoribus atque poetis quidlibet audendi semper fuit aequa potestas,
which means i’m living in england when prog-rock was heaven sent -
where did the englishman disappear to, the 1960’s?!
then comes glasgow with bukowski (i found
him there with ivan karamazov) and i like the fact
that i’m drinking whiskey at 3am
with the neighbour’s kids watching from across the patches of green
while i: drum with my fingers against the collar bone,
weep over singing in german, wear sunglasses to dim the night further.
you know, many lucifers came with the crucifixion of words:
******, stalin, mao... jesus (the jews really took the golden calf
seriously now, although it’s pinned up and
it’s very diabolical to say the least - well d'uh...
        torture for iconoclastic reaping of the knees to bend) -
but few satans - who came with the motto: the silent waters
nibble at the shoreline.
my grandmother said that one, all credit to her,
so about me and the lamentation of singing in german,
a little bit of enlightened thinking: brehta - which in silesian polish
means... he’s laughing... very close to schprehta - he’s talking in a foreign language -
good for commerce.
then i forget the strain and feverishness of lying in bed listening
to the clock tick tick tick...
i stand up and undress myself from the monkey suit worried
about tigers and mammoths and fleas...
i stand up, plug in to the ploughing of sounds, smoke a cigarette,
have a drink... and play with the kids across two garden’s worth of length
pretending to be the madman.

Maybe it was not you, maybe it was me
Setting bridges ablaze
Before crossing
And trying to find  out
What was there on the other side

I'm sorry. I'm sorry you were left there on the other side. If I had only known, if I had only seen, maybe we both would not have been smothered in the fire I had kindled. I swear it was only meant for me.. It's really funny how the fire I had hoped would destroy me just burnt me, it was that one look of anguish in your eyes that reduced me to ashes. Too bad. I'd have taken hundred of those burnings to take away your pain away. Pain that I had unintentionally carved into your flesh.


Maybe I should have said something, maybe you would not have heard it anyway,
But now these silences have become the crime scenes as well as the witnesses*

It's kinda ironical how you've always been the one to  get me down on my knees to pray and the one that had me concluding that both of us had fallen out of God's grace long before we were born. Lucifers in our own hell. Aching from the loss of what we could  have been.

Maybe I should have asked, maybe you should have stayed,
Maybe then we would have something in common other than our parents,
And our disappointments.


I wonder if you too have just gone through your life, uncaring, and, uninterested as if you were stuck in someone else's dream. I wonder which no. Of disappointment it was after which we decided that there was nothing to be salvaged. Not even us. Esp not us. We have gone so long without talking that yesterday when I opened my mouth, no words came out. Whenever I look at us, I wonder if cremation is just going to be a formality? I wonder if they know why I talk so much because I'm afraid if I stop I'd hear the unwanted sounds telling me that I did not talk you out of ruining yourself. I did not say a word, probably, the only time when my words held any significance and I'm sorry, my baby brother. I'm sorry.


Maybe If I had tried harder, maybe if you had not resisted longer
Then maybe we would not be soaked into this rain, permanently
The sky weeping silent poetry that only you and I can feel.

I never played with you. I tried yesterday to get you to but it was too late I guess. You remained seated in the corner of the balcony. I wonder what it is that you see that is interesting enough to keep you looking but not enough to go out and feel it. I wish I could tell you that is how I feel sometimes too. But I just don't know how to. So I stand there awkwardly in the sidelines. I laugh mirthless. Sidelines. That's where I have always been when it came to you. Have not I? I see our neighbor look at us. I wonder if they call it sweet, or, love? Me? I don't dare call it anything.

hell intersects at carondelet and bourbon sweatsheened street speakers lambast lucifers gates where grimy undercover angels lean to sleep and slumberpray the word of god sweeps through the concrete beat only humidity speaks while the spirit sings praise praise praise

Succulent hate and misconceived trees of sorrow,
living under the devils tombstone of love,
rattling my subsequent bones of decay,
on my knees begging to be saved,
witnessing cains ******,
whipping gods eyes,
throw the feedbag on the horses face,
gorging the lies,
galaxies spark strange atomic waste,
suffocating the creator,
starving the witch,
branding the third eye,
searing flesh of goblins
distorted cries,
screams of freedom,
screeching violins play in Lucifers den,
ancient prognosticated scriptures of evil tribes,
frivolous hope crushed again by temptation,
reaching for the forbidden fruit,
love always just out of my grasp,
laughing and mocking my desperate tries,
my crippled desire burns to death right in front of my eyes,
helpless crushing weight from the chains of despair,
cage my raging savage endearments,
destroy me, my tortured love

as galaxies collide
black holes mate
and tectonic plates dance,
silly humans twitter away
asinine triviality day after day

this earth
already consumed by deathly Time
just a pimple in the universe’s prat,
about to be defecated
as cosmic excreta
to another remote corner of our multiverse

a befitting lesson
for a new generation of
lucifers, mammons and belphegors
puffed up with massive egos
yearning to play god

the real one quietly smiles
and now takes aim...


© 2019

I move with the wind
My Havoc mind
You may have seen evil
I'm the one of my kind


The sinister thoughts
The wicked wishes
I see the devil hiding from me
I see his baby plans and enjoy the laugh


I'm beyond the evil
I'm beyond medival
I'm beyond greed
I'm beyond lucifers creed


The world has driven me crazy
I'm crazy I guess you say
I'm beyond the craziness
I've evolved to selflessness


What i am now
Is a selfless insanity

I don't need a reason
I've got regrets a ton

What I am now
Is a controlled destiny


Destruction is my origin
I've been destroyed and I destroy
What a selfless insanity can do
Oh my.


J.... Jester
O.... On
K..... Kings
E..... Empire's
R..... Redemption

You told me... I was an angel, maybe that's why I was so persistent on holding Lucifers hand. You loved the way my eyes were soft, then, you were the reason they were always bloodshot.

All I wanted was a sunny day, but running into you was a hurricane. You felt like paradise that's why I was left coughing up the salty water that you blew my way.  

The sand was dark, but your soul was darker, you swore. I believe you were bluffing but as I was buried. I was a fool, no more. You tried to warn me with caution tapes and sirens, but I guess I was deaf and a little blind to your warning signs.

while lucifers steal the light
of this world,
and take to stage...
basking in the frightening
light of Icarus....
monotheism
via plagiarism...
synonym, god,
vector...
the satans bask
in the ***** of....
a reliquary of shadows;
some people
are just too stupid,
in order to lie...
lacking in chrono--stamina...
biologicznie... słabi;
"stupid"...
         herd mentality
always scoops up
the remnant...
odd...
not inanimate pluralism
of hoarding....yet stI'll
a pluralism...
   BØRG...
the remnant contra the remnants
of...
          soft J
Norwegian fjords...
callous Y... a tree,
a tongue of hydra...
           dirge, and prior
to aeons ago, a Hindu cremation...
a burial at sea...
lost, labours of artefact...
gained...
       a love,
surmised via copper.

Eyes that woke spoke nothing of the day that lay before me
and the night had passed quite evenly or even uneventfully

it was playing with the lucifers that lit me to the hour when I saw the orange blossom of this match with all its power.

Of course the fire consumed me,
the fire that eyes could never see
something smoking deep inside me
which the lucifer set free.

Good Friday and some say why good?
it starts as any Friday would
with coffee and a cigarette and yet
I feel there's somewhat more than this ,
somewhat more?,

what did I miss?

What words could I give to the whisps of your memory
I grasp for you with bleeding fingers
There is no spine to this fragment of my stained glass thoughts
I slam my head against the open door of the temple
These hinges, creaking in the presence of angels
Lucifers hands grasped around the pulpit, knuckles splitting open
While the corners of his mouth parted, like the legs of a ******, for honey fangs that drip the sweetest lies
The convenience of the cross beneath the vaulted ceilings
Will the devout fill this room with prayers
Their words are just smoke
They will not wash away the pentagram burned into the virgins flesh
Her skin stings, this pain it does not fade
This pain, it covers her dutifully
It is a garment to her carcass
No man will lay with her as faithfully as her grave
The earth is her most devoted lover
Gaia so patient in her lust
She has born a sun and now she lays barren
Let the earth split
Hell swallow her up!
These are the runes on the temple walls
If only your fingers read as well as your eyes write
These riddles are for sinners
Wrap your head around naught
These black droplets are for you
Let them coax you into the leviathan depths
Fools hate the wise
Fools hate fools
Excluding only their own foolishness
This is the commandment in the book
Lay down during the night
That your fortune be good
That the blood moon pass you bye
Let another fill the lust of Luna's stomach
This is the dark side of the moon
The devil is impatient tonight
He will have the blood on my hands for a necklace around his throat
Who will look into his eyes and dare him to steal petals from heavens doorstep,
for his own grave

The government.
Takes your land and freedom.
The government.
Built resedential schools for  indian children just to **** and beat them.
The government.
A house of lies where truth is treason.
The government
Will shear the sheep who not believe them.
The government.
Poses in lights when cameras are on.
The government.
Dances with the devil as a new age dawns.
The government.
Is a subtle beast that talks with a split tongue.
The government.
Uses pop culture to influence a rebellious nature of the young.
The government.
Is a wand in the hand of a great mysterious mage.
The government.
Is the lite bearer, the knowledge of lucifers flame.
THE GOVERNMENT

And how they mock you still,
but to use your name to sight being righteous,
of their famous words to say, "I'm doing God's will"

The scales are peeled off my eyes—I see all
those stars, like the past fallen angels.
Falling stars, falling stars; as they brightly mock God.

To make you seem odd—oddly enough to say
they do it out of love. Out of expression, speaking proudly
public of what Biblical reading calls ungodly transgressions.
It's just another form of weapon—Lucifers walking this earth,
in innocent clothes. Church clothes of expensive taste;
letting themselves be praised by using your name.

The name of your Son; to profit off the prophet.
Marking mockery, in calling you an inspiration,
but conspiring to sound like they're doing your will.
But still, they mock you without ill. To use your name to
sight being righteous, of their famous words to say,
"I'm doing God's will"

I feel lucid as my lost dreams, loosely as could be,
To act upon my wicked heart's desire as Lucifer could have
been, and if that's just human, Lucifers all are we.
I've been mostly running out of time, with not much seconds
to count. And I don't blame the company of family wanting to
keep me out,—I don't blame you, I'd want to kick myself
out of my house. I should do better, but I don't seem to match
the words of people's expectations; never really lived on the
letter. But I sometimes hope in a next lifetime I could be clever.
        A lesser of a lessor, but I don't have much of a heart to rent
                                ...out, or let anyone I know to reflect my love.
The pro's and con's of loving me, a con of a man who only really shows the truth in his prose. Mixing the art with the inspiration
of rap; all of which are the stories that pass, and a gift towards a
movie picture of the present. I guess that's a wrap.

By the hopes of a double entendre, I hope I could double out
my life facts. Maybe if I could dream a life of living out my
best fictions, I could be justified to give a god thanks.
Masking my pride with the smiles I pull out of my pocket,
while trying to live a life on time I had to borrow.
But even if you swallow the seed of a man, you still
couldn't birth his much-needed humbleness.
                             ..."I guess pride is much harder to swallow."

And like an addiction of the pills I had, the truth of
my own addictions are all so hard to swallow.
Still every piece I write feels like a letter to my younger self,
hoping he doesn't follow in my footsteps,— I wasn't the best
role model. The teen who would roll a model blunt just
to get a flood of ideas to drown out his mind.
But that's a lie; I never really was the one who knew how
to roll up one, and of course the intention was just to get high.
          Still... what's there to expect of a shy guy,
mostly the types who refuse to cry, choosing to give a bitter
reply. Never to say what's really on their mind: the truth
                     is I'm....sigh never mind!

I'm just writing to pass the time, like passing that blunt,
feeling like I can't, but I'd rather take knowing that I can't,
          then having more people call me out as a ****.