I lost so many friends to being who I am
so I never lost a one
& this,the outcome
is the most beautiful thing I could have ever imagined.
my soul is filled with passion,especially threw the action
of holding my loved ones.
these beautiful women I wake up for,the same ones Id kill for
a normal reaction to passion of the heart
more & more I see myself becoming the villain
from telling the truth
or being steadfast in my opinion.
in my opinion
this is the brash reaction of a street rat
one whos mom and dad still breast feed them cash
so they can act out what they dont feel inside:
a sense of self,
the apple of my eye
the reason I reside in the slums
or in a penthouse each night.