intriquite in the way I reenact past visions threw pens with silly stanzas
splicing inticing findings in each sentence with witty banter
striving to be at the penicle of mediocre underdeveloped stylings.
wildin out,but what im finding now has got me believing..
an underworld full of kids ready to give their soul in hopes of making anothers life a tad less fleeting..with friends you always have a home. and friends youll always have a home with me..
well...the second I claim a dwealing
or figure what part of this country I can find some symbolence in..
I cry in these poems,
but my lines say Im invencible.
I find the long way back is the only one I belong on
a smile in my face and
my prose strong,
riddled with non-fiction
these blistered fingers are helping hands...why is it so hard to convey to these:
depths below a ceartin institution
a grimey reality full or ruthless aptitude and indignation
yet now my best friends departing out on missions of latitude for the grinning top percentange
trippy in to many fucking senses
I hope I dont know as I much as I feel in these bones
close my eyes,
I simply slide into beastmode