donate to ya boy

Monday, April 9, 2012


I need a rich girl like I need a brain aneurism
all the pathways blazed by my mind decode my algorithms
fact & fiction...all in due process & symmetry
objectified looks into a mirror on the other side of these..
fountains of knowledge pour over me
my eyes bleed for I know not what I speak...
I simply move and breathe
and am at one with grief.
it seems my soul purpose is mischief in this creek
the one which empties into the stream...
my adolescence is behind me,
but the lessons haunt,hunt & continually blind me
I keep fending for moonbeams..
and trying to replace her with every other woman I see..
my soul is are these hands...
but these feet...
they continually seek...
and will dig the grave that will bury me.

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