donate to ya boy

Tuesday, June 30, 2015

1983

prolific & gifted

narcissistic & pretentious

venting to a ceiling

another night unscripted

vicious adaptations of perception

no exception to the rule

on a cocktail of prescriptions

& I can still smell her perfume

like some sort of curse,some sort of truth

thrashed out trashed out,vomiting in a expensive ass hotel room

because where am I going to run too...the only next move

this country looks like a chess board

& all I have is a mattress and a chest of drawers

no credit,no paperwork,just spoils of war

alot of the time Im such a pacifist...I wish I hated more

sometimes I have so much hatred I just pray I dont hurt

prey to the eyes of the world

love in the eye of the storm

& here I sit...barred out and alone

thank God for flying lotus...or Id be more anxious to how this night would go

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