if youve had to think about it,
youve not felt it. youll never know when,
or where.
when is maybe right down the road,
however the the where is only seen before its told.
speaking of this treasured feeling,
trapped brain drinking till steeping.
its never dispersed,
its the f$@"in jealous of me,
feeds the more greed i am,
means describing how much i need.
you, how bout maybe that is my thirst.
i would have to wish this feeling upon my worst enemy,
only just so he can lift his cursed.
that mother 4@£er is now apart of an anemone.
a blood runingg trigger on trying more remedies,
that will never leave the heard. my only feeling is for you,
is its the suggestions never blurred, maybe like a seven letter word,
written on my skin,
never burning ink like tin.
feeding soul demons like that incased in
a bin.
spending every liability
and factoring flavors of interest bigger in numbers for our worldly driven.
teaming
feeding
only seeping
never sleeping tweaking
while speaking
and thinking.