donate to ya boy

Thursday, June 30, 2011


I fell in a daze
as if my wrists were in a bind
lines of fairy tale books came to mind
as I spent my nights chained
beyond the walls of intel and agents
past the spiritual change
we ministered to the faithless,
the eyed us with razor wire stares
glazed over glares spared not one of these men a sound mind
but after oblivion comes time
try as you must
but the bottle wasnt enough. we needed powdered lines.
neither were the knives that cut pie charts or interns hearts
crass shallow details by the fellows who knew them best
leather faced with out a single knowledge of fact
it wasnt the chalk outlines that reminded me of that
or the ratatat of broken skeleton lapses of judgement and motor movements
sterile & cold experiences we hoped wed transend sooner
glimpses into the life of a paranoid schitzophrinic who has his shit zipped
locked tight benath ammunition,will and adolescense
the whole polaroids a gimmick
Ive never seen with these two eyelids
Ive always heard whats been developing
hard livin should never be done without meditation
or else youll watch yourself on medication
manifesting a way back into that cerebral cortex youve come to love
but never let love you

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