My brain doesn’t work like it norm… It doesn’t think of the funny rema… Or witty sayings It doesn’t jump from scene to scen… Most of the time it’s too busy
snow rains and flushes mental cocaines
Relinquish control Let the Universe have space To exceed expectations
I want the weird one The one that everyone says is not… That one has created a Self That one I can love
Little chipper 'munk Primal, honest, cheeky, sweet Sugar in my ’shine
Go ahead Do your thing I’m waiting With open wings
I guess I write poetry I just vomit my soul onto paper I don’t know what else to call it but, poetry
I like to walk the razor’s edge I need to tiptoe through minefield… Don’t worry I’m a Libra If I have nothing else
I can blend seamlessly Because I find parts of me In ev’ryone I see
You say you’re broken I see pieces made to fit You say you don’t know I see the truth hidden in it Hidden in You
I don’t write poems for poets Flowery language, indulge us I break it down With a simpler sound And anything more would be less
I stretch your being You respond with shocked intrigue Sparks dance in-between
To tell you the truth I relish your cum It’s the best homage To a job well done
There’s shit on your face You just threw up in your mouth Couldn’t be cuter
The journey is far, you guess And possibly arduous You just couldn’t care less ‘Cause the prize is worth the test