Exists silhouettes
Bits of her motifs
Scattered amongst their fields
Like metaphors and similes
Pleasantly dancing,
The wind as her lead and yet
The wind is her own

Je vous vois!
Je vous vois!

I'm never too far for her to reach
For I will be where she is.
In wildflowers.
Meditate.

Here lies a continuation of being.
View it as scenery indifferent to the weather channel.
A silent, exponential inverted sunshine euphoria
Warming the deepest letters of the soul:
U and I swaying outside linear cubic conventions corroded-
We sway like flowering Earth Resonance blooming as foreign

[Sensations]
A toe-curling in the chest stretched intimate at the highest hour

[Movement]
An unconditional syncopation of the heart and mind echoing a
Design as Liquid Resonance - I am that which you are.
“I could cry solid tears. Where have I been all these years,” says

You to reflected I rippling

[Perception]
Never spoken, only written as an abstract entity aware of vibrations
Tethered to timeless stories never read, only felt as I and U in

Reflected them, the missing strangers with a need to be found

[Immortalized]
Twisted eyes, encumbered lips, everflowing knitted letters stuttered. Kissed. Growing from itself a rehearsed mantra embroidered pattern discord. Mythical. The murmuration of a serenade’s evil dermis that feigns thick to tooth and claw, but silences to love as the overture.

Wide-eyed, you and I are a nascent reprise of words cloaked in inked pages turning in the billowing wind.
"Read them to me."
So I read in heavy rain.
From Monday to Sunday.

There’s a moon like sunrise in her
Glass clouded obsidian eyes
That twinkle like jewel dew
Drops clinging to wind branches.
Yes you:
An essence under Sunday rainfall.

There was a lack of being until the conclusion:
A murmuration in the night and the water
In the glass and the ship that was slowly sinking.
You sang a serenade.

Steady, pulsating drips
Form a cacophony of tiresome
Drifts of time
Winding down the twirls of
His paintbrush the trials of
Liquid resonance.
Pattern-less,
The degenerate.
Out of touch with reality,  
The artist,
In shambles.
Dialysis.

The empty sound of wind coiling
Through hollow vessels whispers
Groans of unheard secret
Unseen from the lips from which
Its voice echoed  
Carrying a lace of touch...
Tis a familiar one,
But still a foreign tongue garnishes
The walls betwixt and between the ears.  
A hum, a song,  
An earthly reflection of love through
A faded sense of albatross...

A thickening dissonance
Between the soothing delay of
Fingertips buried in the roots of a
Sentient heart
Wrench and twist
The angel's song through a
Seasonal mind
Resonating the lost and the torn.
The Betrayer.
And in turn,
We always destroy what we've
Come to love.
Defenseless.

There, my Love steps and
Here, my love follows like a small moon in orbit
My soul raptured and
Smothered amongst her rising Sun's Shadows...
Waiting...
I find myself buried like bad habits-
A pack of cigs for her glossed lips
On a Thursday afternoon stroll.

Scribble, scribble, let the pen
Strike infinite scripts
Of ancient runes in syncopatic grooves  
Spilling my roots
In open blends of hues
Transfused and
Transfixed in haze
The truest fade
It bade me to tip - toe
Amongst hybrid visions
Indigenous to the deepest blues
The realest thing to me and you
Is the mind and spirit...
The mind and spirit...
The reciprocal.
The body.
Peripheral.

The Five train trails pass my balcony under dim
Fluorescent lights flickering beneath towering oaks
Canopying high above and yet,
Still below the placid night sky
Two small girls sing atop our concrete division in
Shapes of adorable keys about love and how they'll
Never leave
Whilst several men two slabs across
Discuss the gossip of their lives under, but yet within
Billows of smokey haze
While I write them out briefly in the cool breeze amongst
Plumes of misty clouds,
The moon dimly shimmering through their cloak.

The Five train right on time.

If only the world could always be as such.
People Living.
Just living.

A brief silence.

I close my eyes, the humming of airplanes over above the
Bellows of my thoughts, the thumping of my heart in sync
With the cricket's harp, and wonder if it's God I feel
When the richness of these particle like moments fill me
                                      
                         ­             The world feels content.
                                      Nature feels alive.
                                      Life feels at peace.

The Five train right on time, thumping along the tracks conjoined
With the night's serenade.
Sublime.

The rush of Fall leaves
Crunchy utterances under
Winter boots –
I hate the Summer

Sunrise sunshine, save a
Defiant silhouette beside mine
Breathing quiet ocean tides –
Innocence like Springtime

Those doe-like eyes and your rosy lips
Make these liquid emotions collide and swoon -so when they mix-
Infectious is the way I feel them bloom
Inside my heart so smitten;
I swear you love it too.
I swear you feel it too.
And I swear this space grows with graceful Hues: Orange-Purple sunset lulls that pull
The strings of our two souls
So catalytic, the strum that hums nascent Blues.
Listen...
It sings You and I as a
Primordial premonition of truth, the Downpour like Tuesday Rainfall.
And You?
The pluming sensation reigning in my Skies, breathes when I feel you feel me...
When I love you wholly, surely you'll see us Truly.

The narrative begins at a point in time,
Somewhere adrift at open seas  
Where polymorphic abstractions surfaced
The blends of life,
Dancing and prancing along these envisioned
Waves

Splash of color there
Dash of color here
A streak
A twirl
A visage of refraction on the fringe
Of her hair: A path  

And
In ambiance we once strolled
This path to elliptical essences
Green, green, green, red,  
Hypnotized in fervor, but alone I lapsed  
In seconds,
In minutes
Into pages of scores  

She, my lore to
Dimensional shifts of dreams and open doors
That I once wished to stroll through
Along with her

But now I smoke in absence of her exhale
Her spliff to my lungs: distant and regretful.  

Fragmented.

I used to have a little black book
Where I wrote this crap..
Out of sync with a flow,
Devoid of a rhythmic stroll,
Breaking centripetal circles
Like those long *** commercials..

Now I just write it in thin air and
Hope for nothing.

My eyes can only see so much.

This is how you pull back blue silk curtains. This is how you differentiate colors: cool to warm. Do make haste to cower from the rays of the sun; this is how you blind yourself. Twist until it refuses. This is how you close turquoise suede curtains. Tell your father he has bad taste. This is how you curse the Earth’s rotation. Tie the plaid curtains into a messy knot. Undo it. Here is how you undo it, but this is how it doesn’t work. Look for the bright side; it’s there behind the blinds. Now this is how the messy knot becomes a good knot. Do it. This is how you wish you didn’t do it, so here’s how the knot comes undone.

Take these, and make sure you write this down: Reverse the threshold and head north from the southeast slash west you were once heading. Take a left comma but remember to keep heading north at all times. Take a pause when lost for optimal clarity. This is how you look both ways. Clear your throat. Watch the lights. Remember this order:  ascending, crescendo, transverse, descending. Stitch a moment of breath. This is how you count steps. Stop. Maintain the pull of gravity and sway; only the dead is still. Scratch your chin and pull at your hair. Make sure it is done first; the end is worthless if you look as sane as when you started. Watch the lights. This is how you differentiate patterns; life resides within its movement. Green, green, red, green. Ascending, crescendo, transverse descending. This is how you take an educated guess. This is how you end up north from east instead of south, which is nowhere. Here is how you backtrack, but first pull up your socks and admire your mother’s good taste. If you go too far back, come here and ask for the restroom. Look into the dingy mirror, touch the cracked tiles, smell the toxic air, listen to the grunts of your fellow in the unhinged stall, and taste the brown water from the leaky faucet. Replenish your will within the blemished brevity of these actions; try again tomorrow. Never look at your watch.

Go back to your temporary room with the packed curtains you thought were opal bed sheets. Lie down on the used bed, but don’t dwell on the escapades next door. Dream. This is how you reach the land of the weak and this is how you ask for Estomac. Be polite. This is how you do acid: lie down and burn holes through flesh infested skies, rip through muscles and sever the tendons of the atmosphere. Come down. Get up. Crumble to your knees. Close your eyes. This is how you spill your guts. This is how you undo knots. This is how you walk away.

She holds
Between her small fingers
The spliff she just lit to sit
In the spot where
Surreal is just as real as the reality
Engulfing itself in splits of seconds as she sits,
Spliff in hand,
Expanding Secretly,
The Universe where mayhem spreads
Meticulously,
Devouring stars and planets to each note played
Catalytically in tune to her riveting grace
Where
Lines of spiraling moments entail
A life of the
Darkest,
Shifting,
Twisting
Whispers of troubling
Shadows
Latching to the misty eloquence
Of melodies that sing the harmonies of her
Humming soul
Within a cloud of smoke
That stays imprinted,
Forever
Un-moving,
In the midst of my lungs and grows, and
As we sit under the sky,
The suns light cradling her so hauntingly
With her red lipstick and,
Soulless brown eyes and,
A voice like the soft ocean tides,
I realized what I realized when I first met her.
Whether night or day or
Through curtains where the light sometimes
Bleeds those artificial shades,
That...

We sank in sands freckled red in sunsets and
Our hands danced like the swirling plumes
Wrought by tides
I suppose there's a time and place to write of
Love, so wouldn't this be one of those times?
One of those places?

We sank in oceans freckled red in sunsets and
Our hands danced like the swirling plumes
Wrought by drowning
I suppose there's a time and place to write of
Death, so wouldn't this be one of those times?
One of those places?

What is to be solidified in imminence?
The Nothing or The Everything?

Within 30 minutes,  
I preserved the only you
I've come to know.

Over the span of three years and some days,
I've only written forty-nine poems.
I am not a poet.

Wait and
Feel the depth from within the Jungle
Of an overlapping melody of violence-
The water rose and drowned the sounds
Echoing the silence of seven years buried
In a sea of earth, so
It was written as
Ridden steady waves
Split, sparked, spooled by
The written woven
Time of infinite darkness
Like, glass clouds blooming across the eyes
Like a glass veil glazed obsidian- migrant mother stranger
Hunter in the depths of Hell- without without as I have
Leather whipped crescents livid on my eroded
Bones
The water rose and I with it as if participating in
The joys of nascent mother motion ever-flowing

I neglect to confide in what formal formality dictates a causality      
The end

Sitting within sounds of the preacher preaching
And people seated just to hear the word of Jesus bleeding
Blends my concoction of thoughts into fumes
Of congregational broth
Inhale tears and thankful praises to the heavens
Uncontainable, yet liberation brief
"Page 90 of your hymnal please"
Be "Joyous and triumphant" in your seat

And one time she was the sea
And he was the sky
Flowing like holy water breathing in God's
Heavy slumber
Destruction is imminent my dear
Who bringth this down?!
"Not I!"  
So singth Judas to Jesus
To easeth wavering spirits
Jesus' wayfaring spirit searching
For the kiss of the Demon

-Muah-  

Earth shattering purse of the lips  
Alarming all these cardinals
Like we already needed a pope.
The creed, the creed, the creed,
Messiah on High, The Bread of Life,
"Stop it. Tell me where Jesus was in these streets."

And I saw and I lived, but I wasn't.

Never bore the political hues of these streets
Every corner stirring up a new beef on these streets
Everyday I had to walk through these streets
"Who you be? Who you be?"
Hands itching through their soul for the heat.
Another life in the grave.
Buried,  
Obsolete,  
For this dingy old hood
Night and day people slinging for the "cure"
"Get this money. Get this money. Man, I gotta get this money."
"Get the honeys. Get the honeys. Man, I gotta get the-" bleep
Lost my very first love to these streets.

Jump out the car,  
New resolve,  
Lost my cousin to these streets.

He died, seconds after taking the leap.  

So I believe, Jesus was in those streets
And told him as a changed man
To "Come and be with Me."

Forgiveness.

One of the basic concepts of art
Is that within every creation lies
Fundamental shapes shepherd by an
Organic compiling of lights and darks  
Bending to formulate shadowed tales.  
Stories. Myths. Epics.
Triangles and circles rest undisturbed
Scattered rhythmically like smooth curves
Contouring to the whims of the dance...
Yet, when infusing detail into mapped
Shapes, the stories are no longer the same.
Haunted and forsaken.

But still, such a delicate face hearkens my
Pencil to life.
My fingers, to smudge these fine lines
Drawn into the organic creation that is you:  
A lovely imperfection.

However, I never seem to get this line correctly.

I am an endless cycle of why
Searching for sincerity, and in it
An everlasting truth indifferent
To the seasonal nocturnes of the
Mind ajar occupies the space as a
Reprise.

I am open to your revisiting.
Are you open to my staying?

The clouds are blocking the stars so
I guess poking holes in my paper
And holding it up to the lamppost
Will have to do.

The Sun recedes
Shadows reverse into their dreams
The darkness sings and rings
Begging to justify its means

As with life comes death
And a hope that we will be redeemed
We anticipate rebirth
Our awakening's awakening

Through black and white verse
Our voices shall submerge.
Harmonious.

I once sat here on my balcony
-around this time I think-
Writing songs out
Phonetically for you all to read..
Eventually I decided to just set
Paper and crayons
On fire while surrounded by
Those three dead bees my mother killed
With my chancleta earlier...
**** was brutal because she was
Yelling while killing them...
And I remember that I couldn't help
But laugh at her and her distraught!
I imagined her as a ******* vocalist for my band..
I think she'd suit a straight-edge band though..
Maybe some Christcore..
But she hates my music and we've grown apart.

But just as I was sitting here melting
And burning stuff, and writing stuff amongst the dead,
I was sitting with them, the bees,
For those past few days when they were alive..
I even took pictures and videos..  
I can imagine myself saying "I didn't want them to die"
Because perhaps I didn't want them to die.

"Go **** them! Death to bees! Take this broom! It's on the net!"
But I didn't do it.

I once sat here on my balcony
Around this particular time and
Wrote a similar poem..

I once, but in intervals, did twice
The movement of a single brisk breeze
For double the time of a considerable
Moment amongst the living.
It was deafening.

If not imminence, is it lust?
A need for silence, a want for noise
I ask to live and breathe
But breathe the scent of laced intoxication.
Fabricated bliss in subordinate dictation -
It tastes like blood on the tongue,
An iron will I detest.

Against the color painted hues of false amnesty

In amber rests preserved skeleton supremacy

Montages.

Tiled floors begat your presence in
The mind as if soles echo unique forms
Of Being-as-waves..
Blue woman within the shade of ripened
Moons and florescent suns  remembers
The curvature of cycles without motion
Violence in the image of pleasure
Change in the order of descent foaming
Across harmonious black sandy beaches
[Sensation in absence][An abstract eternity]
Mortal Death begat your presence in
The mind like Mother Tongue begat the
Life of time in ripened moons and
Florescent suns
                                           "L'air est en béatitude.
                                        Je vous bercé avec amour."
The air is...
Hostile.
Hostile.
How still the necessary angel is in this
Extended  moment of souls touching, meeting
From both sides of a wooden bridge, but
Twenty times you looked back and twenty times
Time faded to black dew condensing on window
Panes.

God's tears in August rain,
In September rain,
In October rain.
God tears so your rebirth is drowned in violence
And within regret you die with red wine carpet
Stains in your eyes and a flame a lit, flickering
Because the air is blissful.
                                           "I cradle you with love"
                                           Torn like steel across skin.

Blue woman who eases charred sands, who is your tourniquet?

I've asked God to **** me multiple times, but He ain't listening.
If He always comes right on time, right now would be fantastic.

Is evil perpetual?

The allure.

The rush.

The blur.

Hush.

He's never aware of how much pain he feels
Until he's pushed to that point...
That snapping, tick-tock of the neck when
The Devil supposedly possesses him.
But it's never the Devil, it's just the silence
In him being reborn again.

She's never aware of the fact
That there's scissors in her shoes
Because she's always dancing...
Dancing to the music of every feeling
Except fine because it makes a lovely tune
Until it doesn't.

This poem exists within a lack of being.

When did they become so frivolous frivolous?

I am aware now.

I.

Muffled horns intoxicate the
Feverish tide of the evening,
The ebb and flow of dusk scented
Lust within the children of night
Turning bliss
Turning in time to the bass
Strumming and the snare rolling
Consummate the morning flight of
The heart in the summertime

II.

Pull and tug on the mind shadowing
The street lights they pace under to
Escape the lovely dream serenaded
By the blues tune of a loveless
Hypnosis - they only know the
Misery, misery, misery following
The lights of city sights on the lonely
Land. Lady Day suffers when morning's
Flight is turning.

The heart in winter time.

Chant with me one last time time, share with me this last swig of fermented heresy
Let me fall with the cricket cracket of me first love
Me father's bethrotal to ye
Aye, she weeps intoxicated on Ægir's brew
Rabid splinters exalting my blood across these toiled expressions of me last wafting conquer
A failure
I've failed you mother, father
Me flask holds no Giant's blood
I bare no Dragon's horn atop this acursed head
Me crew gone with the steel of swords and axes brewed in their sacrifice, their blood spilled in a lust for carnage
This spirit grows weak like the twinkle of yer dying stars, Nótt
Yet mother holds me, her sway gentle
And father covers me, his directions clear

I.

Juxtapose this
Elusive
Visage of
Arranged poetry with the
Unfortunate
Gnaws at
Nothingness

II.

During the evening mirage of reasoning.
Giovanni lusts for lost "love" that supplements
The density of his ego whilst
Vaughn is the song she sung since the
Morning after evening-
A collage of images in the heart
Both a compromise of selfishness

III.

Left jagged in vagueness
"I gave. I gave. I gave,"
And now I am an ageless
Jaunty night that troubles
The mind soul.
"You took. You took. You took,"
And left collective utterances
Juxtaposed in an acrostic and now,
A present beau.

A note to self.

I've done so, once,
Before then,
And now.
But, I still was,
Never before...
Only after.
Now I am then.
Now I am what
Never was before now.
An a, never the.
You fool..
Avada Kedavra.

They say one cannot read in their dreams,
But I've done it.
Saw each word vivid as vivid as I know
Dreams to be livid and lucid armored
Inventions of deeper realities combating for
Essence in action. In motion. Awake. Again.
My eyes tumbling down like mounds of sand
When the wind blows searching for crevices to settle in
And marginalize and quantize the space between
Reason and faith.
Touch and sound.
But I dreamt words. Again.
Are they yours or mine?
It tasted of sorrow
-as do all words already do-
And each form of noted thought was clear, but faded
With each new word formed aloud by the voice
Suddenly questioning the vestiges of the unspoken hum...
But for the first time someone answered.

But who?
Was it I who read?
Was it I who questioned?
Was it I who wrote?
Was it I who answered?

Was it I?

Either way, it is still yet I who is
Bound to unknown tethers,  
Arrested to both spoken and unspoken words,  
Wasting away trying to remember  
The answer.  

Weary.

The sea is my entity
These lungs are my enemy
I can’t breathe where I need to be
And sometimes I just wanna be.
Free.
Wayfaring on an endless surface
With no bends and turns, just currents
That blend with the ends
Of minds
Mine
Lines
Sunshine in your eyes
I really wonder if this world is safe enough
For silence loud enough to bake
your nerves
Into burnt parchments floating amongst the force
Of waves
We never said
If we loved sonatas,  
The nocturnes written on your wrist
Notes trailing from the shore
Seducing what we
Never were.
“Tell me to behave for you.”
Free minds
Free lines
Mine frees yours
Yours frees sunshine
And if I, Si je prends un moment
To ordain this Spirit of Time as regret,
Chances are I won’t see the Morning Sun
Chances are I’m a man without a home
Chances are the city lights sing me to sleep
Chances are devoid of what we need them to be
And what I need them to be, I know, I know, I know
That I didn’t think of you
As
Where I needed to be, I know, I know, I know
That I don’t think of you as
Anything other than the sea
Where I throw in vials of your
Meanings to me...
Empty vials of potentiality...
Things you will never see.

I need someone to watch
Grey's Anatomy with me.

I have so much to catch up on here...
Dear God, give me willing strength.

If I spent an afternoon
Cloaked in the scent of your muse:
Wildflower Spirits.
The Spring Deluge.
Would you love the sound of my voice in your ears?
I left the taste of trust on your lips
-An attempt at bliss-
Hand in hand,
The rainfall covers us.
It covers us.

God's favorite game is playing with my heart.

Leave me for mulch -
Forlorn to feverish growth
It's fatal. It's decomposition.  
Vindictive, I've let it all surmise
In sermons scripted as
Tarnished seedlings.
Left it to grow in the damp
Pits of desolate scorn -
Infected throughout my stems
I pray to dissolve

Don't mourn.
Don't mourn.
Don't mourn.

How do I script this reversal of time?
Rewind my spine until my heels touch my mind?

Click Twice.

Travel through the avenues of my own schisms
Dotted lines in incomplete frames...

My toes feel them out -
I wonder if I breath the same
Measured and controlled -
I wonder if I'll be the same

Orient my spirit to the currents in my brain:
            
            I'm in a sea
      I'm in a lake
I'm in a pond
To drown
      To waft
            To swim

How do I script this reversal of time?

Exist.
Exist.
Exist.

I lie in a field
Waiting for myself to arrive
The quintessence of knowing the
Depths of my soul
Immobilized - Idyllic?

I lie in a field asleep
Coupled with roots of Sycamore
Promises - I suppose.
I suppose I'm desperate to feel
Grounded within the viscerally fleeting...

I'll meet you there?

Relapse.
Relapse.
Relapse.

Open wounds on my wrist
Arterial lines to search my brain's
Intimates.
A delicacy beneath my flesh...
I'm left bruised with purple hues and
Deeper wounds.

*******.
*******.
*******.

faults in my reason
must be dreaming
fooled by the sweetened
taste of **** on my tongue
must be dreaming
today i ain’t fall apart
today i picked up shattered parts

i’m dreamin…
dreamin, dreamin
i got it my way
(dreamin… dreamin)
this is my world
(dreamin… dreamin)
but when i got stuck
stuck in the rut
with the ash from my bud
that’s my bud -
no cuz
no keke
even God didn’t see me
even God didn’t see me
even God didn’t see me

Check how I handle these demons sent
Sent for the Lord and he brought his ****** tact
Tact with the pen and gat -
Mortician - i be havin premonitions
Two sides of the same coin
guess i’m just facin my fission
dreamin tunnel wisdom
i’m on a mission
starboy
starlord
starseed
that ***** ain’t free and neither is me

faults in my reason
must be dreaming
fooled by the sweetened
taste of **** on my tongue
must be dreaming
today i ain’t fall apart
today i picked up shattered parts

faults in my reason
must be dreaming
fooled by the sweetened
taste of **** on my tongue
must be dreaming
today i ain’t fall apart
today i picked up shattered parts

frayed wings i took no flight
on my feet i served to fight
protect the peace all my might
hustle in the lungs for the dream
bustling the arms for the cream
dreamin of my world complete
dreamin my friends fed to sleep
plate so big no desire to keep

love is all i wanna reap
love is all i wanna reap
love is all i wanna see
love is all i wanna see
love is all i wanna be.

222
how i feel right now?
dejected - tip toeing to
where?
i wallow in reflection
riddle pebbles in every direction
disturb placid lakes with intention
i’m a degenerate…
or so my story shows -
malignant magic toss me to and fro
i’m tooth and claw born:
a black rose
raised to be a thorn for the gouge
implored the gorges and found
hollow mounds of sound
empty words compiled like faces
in a crowd  
i’m in a shroud -
humming ghost hymnals
diamond of april in prosaic pose
minstrels -
how i’m bound and crowned
ten toes down
ten middle fingers up
Shin Sūsenju lay hands on a runt

is this what you want?  
am i built to your woes?
fervor to shatter molds
i can’t control
black jade shields my soul
but i still dance with the world
we both in a whirl…
derogatory spirits in my head
my toes curl
involuntary shifts in my bed
my toes furl
restless nights - so i sip the earl
guess i’m grey like mama’s pearls

baby blue world in a swirl
navy blue denim -
legs in a twirl
body immersed in
a dream deferred -
from this curse i emerge
unfurled
from birth i drove the hearse
from birth i drove the hearse

Dear,
sleep with one eye open: i’m a seer
before i ever touched the drugs
i knew the truths and the dares
a reckless ***** for the care
loud deploys of thunderous tokes
i’m eloping with peace through
blunts rolled in hope -
made a bond with a newer self
thinking i was better in health…
in euphoric fog I grew fond
dissipate to city songs
but in smog i loathe like kong
angry, lost, and no nia long -
i can’t give away my heart
baby just come for the ride…
i put it all in the song…
through that water, yea i trogged
in that whip, now i boss
manifest strength in welts from past hands dealt with tongs
i should’ve never…
i should’ve…

baby blue world in a swirl
navy blue denim -
legs in a twirl
body immersed in
a dream deferred -
from this curse i emerge
unfurled
from birth i drove the hearse
from birth i drove the hearse

tryna be the greatest ever
i’m tryna be the greatest ever felt
i was never tryna be the greatest ever
till i lost my pelt
cold with my skin out…
i got my **** out
fear me.. love me.. hate me..
i got my chest out
ain’t **** to this paper
bet i wipe up boogers
till it’s runny south
bronx be the come up -
27 world rings
smell the daises
in a suit oof i’m done up
these ****** allergies
but i’m in them daily till the sun up
i’m just killin my time
got 3hunnid to my name…
make that 270..
feedin my vices with 30 dollar
indo strains
feelings dissapate
lung muscle gains
hear the hustle gland
grab a duffle bag
fillin it with everything i never had
i’m scripting nations and armies
i’m ****** every thing up like
we should’ve had
and when i’m done, *****
it’s a permanent scab
betta feel the reps in my jabs, *****
BLAM

baby blue world in a swirl
navy blue denim -
legs in a twirl
body immersed in
a dream deferred -
from this curse i emerge
unfurled

from birth i drove the hearse

from birth i drove the hearse

i’m the Reaper’s first son
raised in the church
from birth the earth i worked
see it in my blood exposed -
my love
mortal man neva shown