She is without it 11/29/2008

I am contented without fights, lies and restless nights.
I feel happy without implement, cents or reason.
I gain wisdom without notes, assessments and Google.
I receive love without disrespect, dishonesty and distrust.
I feel royalty without opposition, self-service or patriarchy.
Relentlessly, they don’t want my nonchalant attitude, but I’m a narcistic bitch. So I’ll say, “fuck you,” and do what I like to. We all chose what emotions to prostitute, maybe my happiness is overused but I believe worrying is mental abuse. Follow the virtuous example and surpass the frustration and anger, she’s seeking sweeter flavors. You’re not my favorite, but I’d still want to be Minnie if you were Mickey and Jill if you were Jack. Beyond the fork running away with the spoon, I want you to be my stars and moon, ‘cause maybe I love you!? Its true, I wake with demonic tastes in my mouth, “what’s my life about?” Forget the frowns and move past the sorrow, “get it while you can, ‘cause we may not be here tomorrow.” So let me barrow one of those solace kisses that leave me in Nirvana, like the cake I ate that was laced, which tasted great but the waste was harder to face compared to your lies. I’ll try to endure your bullshit and inspire simple enjoyments that this world of ours has to offer. You slobber and spit when you’re talking shit, but there’s not sweeter sight than a grouches smile. So let us talk awhile, until the sunrises and the sadness sets. Until I feel your conviction in tone of voice, when your adverbs and adjectives become a good choice and carry me along in the words of your song. So I guess even the crazies have integrity. “Damn that rabbit face!” She said as she endeared the appreciation tears, loving hugs and sincere gestures. Just let her be who/what her soul desires. Building a fire inside of frustration and anger, but a pleasant expression is favored. Neighboring the truth, yet your stories are growing tails. She wails, “I’m tired…” and yet I’m still tolerating the evil, mean and ugly queens. I’m sick of these scenes and I have to leave because you’re verbally attacking me. It’s not that I have anything to hide…well, just that I hate the way we mesh, but I love the feeling of your flesh so ill lick your lips one last time before I say

goodbye.

cold and cough 11/05/2008

I don’t want to be a bitch but your acting like a dog in a coexistent world and I’m the only black pearl. Sitting, thinking, breathing and blinking, “why I am I still here?” the beer is calling my name more than the green. Scene is moldy, hold me, a distraction with a physical attraction. My head is vacant, but every day is what we make it. So are you going to let an opportunity go or are you going to take it? Are you flying the plane or are you the copilot? So silent, loss of sex and violence. I’ve lost my sense of ease so leave me alone, please, ‘cause you’ve become a mental constipation. Love could take the nation but we tend to balance our emotion upon our sleeve cuff. Hide the love, no hugs! She is blessed from above but the demons said they told her~ they hold her. Fasaud and similes, not really real. Taught us how to feel in a commercial, showed us what to wear in a poster. Fucking posers! These hosers can’t even look me in the eye and say they’re my hommies relentlessly of my materials, my Cheerios, my Fritos. We are free of those and yet it’s silly flavors that have bound us down. Don’t frown because there’s always a sunny side of the shadows, where we can feed our cancer habits and fuck like rabbits. Can’t hack it, fucking fagot? Whack it and miss you too. Missing tooth, hide the truth behind the alcoholic youth. Baking cookies for something to do, there’s nothing new. The blue berries rot and the trees die. Time is ticking and I wish it would stop. Knuckles pop and nails break, how much shit can we take? Tequila, gin, whiskey and weed. Do not breed idiotically. Literally, we are free, liberty! Spoke sweetly but brutal, a whipping noodle, screaming for more. Ah-knocking at my door are only man whores, but we all live and die alone, so you can sleep by me tonight. In the morn I’ll chug my coffee so God can laugh at me. I wanted to feel love but everything I touch tends to break. They believe touch is real and feelings are fake. I don’t agree but I’ll construe because I understand things with my mind and not my hands. Transcending concepts and pretending inconsistence but I’m addicted. The broccoli of broccolis, I only like the leaves. Comes and leaves like a living disease, I can’t stop the feed. Ate until the belly aches, take what you can, didn’t make or mend. A blessed beast was given, can’t stop the living with a juicy peach trilogy. Neither of us will ever see what we truly mean, SO FUQ’ YET! Antisocial, aggression, fascination. Sexual, frustration, entertainment. Paddy cake, playmate, masturbators. Pirate, private, puppet. Why must it, musk it, do not trust it. Tearing, endearing lies. She tries but no wishing star could break the atmosphere. Soul is pour, set ah-soaring. Free butterfly swinging into the stars, ‘tis not that far to touch respect. Nancy, fairy fagots having fun chasing their own tail. Frustration, anger, obligated by morality. Moon~cycles~recycle, did I stifle? this tribal bitch is going crazy. Not lazy just unmotivated, no star cards just retards. I don’t love you, three times two, what the fuck can we do? Watch, listen and do not learn. Take your turn to be a faker, a baker of illusion, which is why I don’t know if you were sent from the angles or demons. Your love is blinding so I can’t see them. Tasting bitter kisses and (a psychology definition of the minds perception of the bodies’ sensations, I believe starts with an e) exactly what this is. Bliss fizz overflows my mug, now it’s TI:ME for a memory tug. I’ve become deaf, mute, blind and dumb due to this foolishness. Which is why I’m taking vengeance on sorry fucking souls and condemning them to see my wrath, mind fucked=tricky bitch, no math. I’m daring you to try and see the real me, hidden beneath stone and flammable vapor. My whiskey breath you shall savor, feed my weed bed and take a glance into the darkest depths of my free soul and receive silly fragrances of vicious, math less, mind fucked mist full of love; like cotton candy ice-cream, you don’t know why but you know you want more. Life whore, indulgence is a score. “So tell me, what’s your name again?” I can’t stop believing this world is ours for feeling. My friends are homely but they’re my hommies. Mi maw is the only “G” that makes me what pride to be the sum of such equations. Who’s complaining? The seed never falls far from the tree, so it’s you and me that have become the fruit of their labor. I love and am always loved and yet I’m still at home, yet I’m still alone. Words are never set in stone, I’m stoned…because the time and place I puked the waste. Taste the overflowing oils and smell a dominos effect. Recollect under the dancing stars with my guts ah-blunder. Today I laughed like thunder though it was the night before with welts and singed nipples that tickled my mind. Find new ways to smile because your words have begun to pile… like corn poop in a ditch by Alex Haitley. Do not hate me for I am just a tease. Looked me in the eye like, “Please!” I’ve stated before that I love but am not in love. So try and understand this tricky bitch when she says she is thankful for her lonely hommies whom consumed that time and place, temporally filled a cold space. Walks me home and gets me stoned. You know I’ve known you before those mongrels stepped your pride and said, “WTF? Are you alive?” left them strive as you indulged an angel food cake within this Milky Way. These days are all a drunkard dream that seem to spell self defeat. Met my fallacy in wonderland as your tips grazed my hand and awoke a blind man.

ten pts for the one in pink~ 8/2008

The compound is divided when ignited and the chemicals become visible as they are turned into an aerosol… that I can't stop enjoying. Avoiding emotion and seriousness, I love this! So go on and stereotype me as an uncommitted hippy, b.c I honestly don't take shit. I can admit the destination of this flight; death comes at the end of every life, which is perfectly imperfect. I'm realizing the years can pass like my childhood days. Fraying my ribbons, just like them I've come undone. Sung my songs and played along, but every game seems to grow old. Hold your house cat but you can't tame a wild tiger like me. Ice cream is sweet but it's the meat that makes the meal. Deal?… I don't think so. Maybe I'm stuck in the brownie batter, like the mad hatter @ tea time. Rhyme my reality so maybe they can see what I might mean. Its free time, its tea time! The mad hatter and caterpillar want to play. Croquet isn't my best game, but I'm not a passenger of the hater train. Mz. Jane's got the best of my days and I can't seem to understand anyway. Try, try, try and try again. They may give-up, but when, but when, but when?! My shit does stink, so think what the fuck you want to think. Suck your own dick and play tricks, but I'm the only bitch that has a twist of tantric tranquility. Take in a breath of me and try to forget shit ever happened. What's ah-happening? My mind is flooded, but I loved it. Now, its time to break out of this prison, stuck in a prism. Listen…do not speak the wretched words that sum about the brain. Contain the negativity and blow away this reality. Come to me in a nightmare, compare me to the last bitch you kissed. Gymnast and the Easter bunny, my luv'N is always funny! So hug me and tell me I'm worth the while, if you can smile inside w.o a body high. Say ga'bye b.c I don't want your juice and I've cut you off of cake. Bake the batter but my core is still unthawed. Fasaud of love, shove it down your own throat b.c that just isn't my style. Visit for a short while and wake a hoe and shovel, lover of trouble. Complaining of stubbles and singed ribbons. A sign was given, but I too am an addict of bliss so try not to hear this… I-AM-OVER-IT! Now ah-days, I don't even pick-up the phone, I'm not even home. Sitting alone, I forgive you all b.c I do unto others as I'd wish to be done for me. Though there is a sea of bad emotions I'll just have to love relentless of what was said or done, b.c my love is only fun. Friends forever had mistaken a lover w. a fever to leave her. HOW DID YOU FORGET? I just don't understand this break… mixed emotions, twisted mentality. Worry free, the lord is strength in me. Pride amongst thee, swallowed a pill w. my coffee. Move past my addictive personality to realize I love it! SO FUQ' YET! Shameless, tenacious idiot. Pouring my soul for no one else to know, so go on and seek your own opinion of thing w.o influential splerz. What's the word? Domino's effect! I'm affected by negativity. Cookies and nachos cannot cure the sickly, only a sincere gesture to forget why we cry. Today, we do not forgive and forget b.c we've lost so many meaning, for example; faith isn't something w. a blossom. It's a work of art, a creation that isn't sensational, an intuition wrapped in hope, hope that was lost in anger, the anger that built-up and blocked in a grudge. Now we cannot love, not even self love, b.c of a grudge. So I'll do what I can't to help you forgive me, b.c I have hope and built-up faith that you'll forget the anger and negativity. Bake some cookies and brew you coffee, eat nachos so you be happy. Existence is free, life is priceless. Though I make less material than you, I am satisfied. I can't deny that it's all so beautiful. Reaction less, stressed my che, now the bugs are bothering and I feel no harmony b.c there's a yahoo party in the trees. Leaves me so confused, I can't contain. I've lost my sense of sane, like a match turned to flame. I'm burning inside the propane, b.c I've lost my sense of sane. Entertaining will end and it will burn inside you like propane, b.c I'm my own friend that's put entertaining to an end. Pretend it's all great, b.c I'm my own friend and I'm my own date, I'm pretending it's all great. Though I'm so confused, I can't contain being my own date, like a match turned into flame. This bitch is going insane, b.c she's pleased to see retards always smile, b.c they're truly happy. Disappointed to see ugly babies, b.c beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Surprised to see love between old men and young women, b.c it all started w. a shallow lust. Succeeded to see a slut in a sentimental moment b.c they've lost sense of true value. Saddened to see the living dead b.c loved ones live w. in memory. Afflicted to see work take away passion b.c actions always spoke loudest. Who M-I to try and answer the five W's and an H, b.c I've asked too many questions myself. What I can say is that I'm K8, BITCH '08. I'm not here to negotiate; I give great hugs and a lot of luv'N. So hey, let's be friends and live to the extremity of simple existence, b.c maybe I love you and that purity w. in the soul, a blessing were all born w., into a sickness we breathe, a brain washing we believe, beauty were trained to see. Times like these I just don't understand, maybe I care but I'll just keep stating that I don't give a fuck! These ladies are set-up to "perfection" but I only see ugly emotion. So maybe they're clueless of what bliss really is. Stressed the expression that it's all small stuff and it will be okay b.c it always is. They keep on telling me to drink my milk but I've never spilt so much in my life. Perhaps they're what blind me from seeing, saying listen to the words. Which makes it okay for me to say, "I love you back" but change nothing b.c the flowers you brought me were dead. So I baked myself brownies instead b.c I need beauty and a hit of tranquility to see what lies w. in thee. You are not in my peace b.c we rely too much on these. Pulling away from the truth and losing instincts of youth. Think the days away, run astray reality and dream of me once more. Though loving seems to be a waste of time
(/) time to rhyme EMOTIONS
a fucking potion commotion
restraints complaints why try?
Too much fun temptations cave in
and I taste your lips again
what a joke we've all become
I know it takes effort but I lack motive b.c I'm afraid
FUCKING COWARDICE just slit
my wrist if you want to hurt me
unintentional why did we fall to begin w?
naivety is bliss don't understand
this hungry bitch just hold me
don't mold me your moldy FUCKIN' SCOLD
ME b.c I'm fun!& maybe I love you
doing unto others as I'd wish to be done 4 me~ RESPECT EMPATHY
try to see what I mean, see that I'm clean deliberate free spirited
fronting tricky independence but I'm
broken consistently climbing cloud 9
to find good times to rhyme and
indulge emotions that just may be
a Fasaud fallacy in wonderland
to take my hand and dream the days away b.c life's too fast
breezing past
blinking my eyes I ponder why you were ever there to begin w.
I was never joking.

post-it rhymes 5/2008

I’m retarded and psyched-out, I’m sick of it though I don’t know what it’s all about. I hate the games and I hate the war, I hate that I hate and just don’t know anymore. I live and I laugh and I live and I cry. I live to drive, but I don’t know how to fly. I’m rocking the diamonds, but the hearts are awesome too. Clubs suck and the spades just never knew. So someday when I die, do not cry just blaze some, all my loved ones. Right after you bury me with three seeds in my hand, so that someday my bones may become the land and sprout me three marijuana plants. She’ll be so mature she’s sarcastic, she seems so real but she’s actually made of plastic, she’s a butter face but you love the taste and leaves you wanting more, who else but she will be coming back ah-knocking at your door asking, “is it possible to make love and not be in it? Or make love and have no idea what it is? Or is it possible to be in love and not make it? What is love?”
All I can think of are lyrics from a song I once herd, “sometimes, fantasies are all we need.” Well, sugah, that I can be, so run astray reality and play with me just one more game, because temptations grow insane when missing the taste of beer and weed on your breath. I left to remember to forget you, because I’m tired of being excited and I think I’ve always been an afternoon riser. I know its all for pretend, but some how we’re still in communication, I could spell fascination! Do you have a clue what I’m thinking? WTF? My coffee is still too hot. When you heat fruit the rot comes faster, why is that? I hope I haven’t left you too in a state of shock. I’m just too excited and empty inside, with no emotions to hide. Whether you ready to pick-up the receiver or not I’m still on the line, nine times five, are you still alive? Please, give me a sign you want me to reside in the space of that time and place. There are no losers because there is no game. So don’t even choke, because I’m just a joke. Poozlem players are always hated but it’s the game that shouldn’t be tolerated. Created the jaded, uncomplicated. Morality=humanity, does anyone truly care? Hair is a blessing, but critiques keep removing it. I just don’t understand that when pressure is lost, veins grow cold. Hold my nightmares away because I don’t want to grow numb without my momma. Lama hats make my forehead itch. Wish for one more taste of cake. Opaque complexion among a many facial expression. Action taken place but erased with time, climb the skies and dream the day away with me. Guarantee we will not fall but have a fun ride. Don’t deny a high flying P.I.E. with tenacious tendencies to be alive and love every fucking minute of it! Though I have a 0 to my balance, I’m probably the richest bitch you’ll ever know because my soul is pure and my friends and family, genuine. Shits always headed my way and I can’t stop the hating but my life is still as supreme as could ever be. So everyone can step off their fucking pedestals, because it isn’t possible to stomp my parade.

Order of life 4/2007

I feel like a brownie being consumed by you. Call me, “sweetie, love, doll.” I feel entertained but nothing is gained at all. Well, who am I to say, “Life is great!” because things just keeps ah-crashing down, but no frown is seen upon my face because I know it’s not our place its our perception whether to be that down and out or a happy high. So I took that bitches ‘bottle of inspiration,’ SLAM! Good-bye to a gloomy cloudy day. Saved a life and threw a cigarette away, but the ‘smoke puma’ was arising and the reality of both our worlds started colliding. I began to see the negativity that rots in the hearts of individuality and things just kept ah-crashing down. Down to the earth like the forty demonic doves that blind us with the lustful love that’s worth a penny or less. Blessing us with sin but shunning us from rest. The bible speaks of equations but we must do the test and honestly, I don’t know the many formulas that may someday help me to realize that we are just in a wonder world, hypnotized! Tantalized by our own civilized mindset, of which has distorted from its original silhouette. Now it is time my child to break wild into your natural, innate being and start seeing through your cultural eye. Take in life’s simplicities; put your mind at ease, its peace. So please, don’t disturb with your critical ways, focused on negativity and games played, wake-up and do it ah-gaine, I’m going insane! Milkshakes in the yard and meatball is dancing like a happy retard, but the flavor is sweet unlike the yangs’ salty, sour stench that makes your jaw clench and teeth grind, pulling you backwards in rewind. 3-2-1, CONCIOUSNESS! Were back to reality but m&m doesn’t catch the gravity behind what were seeing, believing and being, the me or you that chooses to drink the booze or smoke the Jane. Win or lose it’s all the same when were living that “four-letter-worded” game, that has created an understatement. It’s me, because I don’t necessarily follow what it is you theorize. Perhaps if we legalize the 70’s D.O.C. we could be on the same connectory cables, rebuke all the irrational labels. We can combine psychiatric sensations in reminiscent conversations or just “get lost.” As for today’s forecast, Mz.Jane remains in the holocaust. So I continue to inhale the governments’ sticks of exhaust and lose myself in train of thought. So I guess you didn’t gain the attention sought, because I am a narcissist I don’t need your sympathy, I’m too proud and I love being Mz.Me! In an imaginary wonder world of my very own, stoned inside of my mind, playing like video only in rewind. Bringing back in times the good ol’ times of tequila and limes on a hot summer day, just wishing things didn’t change and things were the same again, like way back when birthday parties were the neighborhood bash and cash seemed less value than finding a four-leaf clover. Don’t cha’ just wish we could all start over?

wrote this in history class 11/2006

There’s a bug in my bowel and it’s affecting my mood, so if I itch, ache or have a bitchy attitude pay no mind, because my patients have no time. I feel like a narcissist because I have to pee, puke and shit simultaneously and you’d probably be pissy too. The news! Good or bad, it’ll be the History we can’t forget because it has invoked emotions that may get you high or make you a wreck, so what the heck? Why is this sickness getting the best of me? So controlling, nothings good enough to bring me back to jolly simplicities that relieve me of ugly, unwanted ness and shit that gets on your shoulder. It said, “hold her down, down, down!” time to break away, love that sound but I just cant find those arrows that lead my path, because I’m so intoxicated by this bug full of red wrath. This is only this better half.

Dream the day away with me 12/2006

I wish I were in a dream, leaving this reality to a fantasy world, where anything can come true. Forget this unproductive me that’s without a clue and lives a lie. Today, I shall die with every cigarette I smoke, indecently filling my lungs and exhale a precious part of my life that I chose not to live. No regrets, just enjoying the frets playing on my radio. Dress up and wear that mask to hide the real you, so no one has a fucking clue. You do WHAT to be a deceiving twit? Slitting your external dermis…what are you so proud of? Stupid, we are all fucking fools, seeking to be that genius that never really exists in our lives. Just stories told in books, but they’re growing mold in our brains and soon will flutter along, just like you do when I say, “I quit!”

Vent 9/2006

They’re not quite sure what they’ve seen, but I warned them, I can be a fucking queen. I like the taste and I love the scene, so I start and end my day with it and sometimes I even smoke some in between. Not the candy, never such meth, I light my bowl from the top from age 16 till death. It’s just who I am and I love being me, I thank you for your acceptance and opening you eyes to see exactly what I mean.
They say its best to read a book before you judge it, then you realize the cover just about squares it up anyway, but you fucking love it!
The just of love and lust in a sentimental memory of the past is foolish, yet nourishing to the soul of the lonely/neglected child that exists in everyone-YOU! We’re feeling foolish because we know there are no futuristic possibilities at hand, when the emotions become the push-pins and they are the one who’s pierced and tampered the many angles unimaginable.

Moral Standard? 7/24/2006

Everywhere I turn I see attraction, one type of love to another. I feel the love of a sibling and a mother, but not the attraction of a lover. I have to admit, there’ve been nights when drunken “slums” acquaint lust and it’s socially acceptable… which is cool but at the same time is saddening and disappointing, because everything I seen in the entire scene was below my moral standard. I was most of all disappointed in myself for lowering my approval of such behavior and drama… when the entire time no one was really dramatic or overwhelming. The environment was completely chill-axed. Its just my tenacious self-discipline that hold me to be exactly who/what I want to be and the man that may someday see that in me will be real. He will be my lover, an affectionate true friend and it will be deep intimacy until…
THE END.

Never Ending Bullshit 5/4/2006

See you later, leaving a bitter, sweet taste, bitter being the potential disgrace. You need to get out of this place, this place possibly being my head. Bleeding instead, from its flowing meat, we’re risking the IF of a physical beat. Are you keeping up or would you like me to rewind? Shall we continue this entwine or end this mix of sour cake batter? Battle the blender to make it better; don’t you see this girls mind is running, are you going get her? Transform into a jack setter, because that’s all this bitch needs to complete this letter.

9/16/2005

Sometimes even the innocent break wild and sip away their sorrows. Look away my child, there are always better tomorrows, because feelings never last forever.

pray for peace 1/1/2005

In this world of war and land of lust, they’ve broken your heart and stole your trust. In it all what can you do? Pray for peace.If you’re stuck in a moment of anger or pain, lost and broken down some where in the rain, feeling confused, mentally, physically or emotionally abused, remember you’re never alone. Just bow your head and pray for peace.

B-town 2004

I rolled into a hole that’s hell; a demon came among me with something to tell. Not only did it tell me, it showed me the deep, dark reality. Judged the crazy people, insanity! She called my holy and the angels swam around me. Oops! He’s falling, can’t catch gravity. Run away from this deep and dark reality. It scared me down to the darkest pits of my rusty soul. All the people around me were blinded and smoked another bowl. They continued to caress their sorrowful emotions down with a splash of bitter Canadian. Their future dreams are crashing and no one knows what to say to them. The shooting stars are now falling, we blow as hard as we can in hopes to get them crawling. I accept it and I see it, that isn’t me so I won’t be it. He was hanging on by my toe nail but now he’s sitting on my shoulder, he told me what to tell her so I told her. She didn’t listen and it’s kind of sad. Momma lost her little baby, because that little girls gone bad.

9/2004

Wash my face, brush my teeth and take a shower, but my soul remain unclean. I could look you in the eyes and still not be seen. Mixed feelings, scattered thoughts, from the inside out my carcass rots. Sick physically, emotionally scarred, I’m still looking you in the eye and you’re seeing NOTHING in me. Number three, but there’s the one above. Kiss and hug then pinch and shove. I don’t understand, because I’m blind, mute and dumb. There are three beside me but I’m the only one seeing, speaking and hearing the you…still, I don’t know if you were ever true.

A.C.C. 9/2004

Sitting in a puddle of piss, puke and blood, crying and thinking, “What the fuck am I doing sitting in your muck?!” sickened, saddened and angry, I’m asking you why? Overheated, dizzy, I’m dumbstruck! A frightened cry. Spew of talk, it’s nothing but the truth. I’m tired of being treated the way I have been. I fuck up, state my life is sin. Take maw’s car and bring it right back, but still I get the verbal bitch slap! Torn apart by that special kiss, I’ve got shit in one hand but in the other I’ve still got that wish.

GET A CLUE! 12/4/2004

I’m sitting in a suitcase like a nutter-butter ball. I see a man staring; he’s standing down the hall. I don’t know what to say to them, neither will I to you. It doesn’t really matter though. Why the fuck should you care who screwed who. Rip, dip, a fall and trip. Turn around and watch the finger flip. Learn a lesson, lick your lips, walk away and shake your hips. Make them wish and want, get a clue? That’s when you know they’re not really true. They want the sanity but I’m deceived, the fact is though, that they believed. How long has she known? Truly, I don’t care. We’re going to breakfast, we’ll meet you there. If she doesn’t show, what should we do? Move the fuck on and get a clue!

Wonder 2003

Nothing to do bored in class. Sleep sounds good. Relax my eyes and sleep. Boy won’t quit staring and it’s uncomfortable, can’t sleep. I had a strange dream last night. Hum, I wonder what it means, burning buildings, funky dresses, she wears them. Hum, I wonder.

Nothing to do bored in traffic. Fresh air sounds good. Park the car, get out and breathe. In a jam and surrounded by exhaust, can’t breathe. I opened my room window last night. Hum, I wonder if it’s still open, cold, crisp, fresh air. Hum, I wonder.

Nothing to do bored at home. Food sounds good. Go to the kitchen, make a ham sandwich, enjoy. The bread is moldy and out of ham, can’t enjoy. I made dinner last night. Hum, I wonder if it’s still there, noodles, sauce, and garlic bread. Hum, I wonder

Mmk 2003

so fucking lame, wish everything could go my way. Wish I could spell; wish I could say who goes to heaven and who goes to…jail. Make everyone bow down and kiss my ass, wish I could jump on an airplane and every time take first class. Wish I could get my diploma, but what I really wish is to wake-up from this coma…okay, it didn’t work. I’m still here in dreamland, stuck, damned, canned. So tired, but I want to wake-up and realize where I am, if this is reality or just a dream. I just don’t know and I’m so confused. My brain has become so abused. The girl is raped and it’s disgusting. Making me sick, I don’t want to think. I just want to get out of here and look back and laugh at my stupid ass and how immature and ridicules I was, but right now I cannot breath nor can I read. I’m not a bitch sent here to breed, so you can save your cheesy pick-up lines.

It’s my… 2003

Mothers’ apple pie fresh out the oven, puppy breath, freshly cut grass,
These things you may smell, but right now… it’s my scent that’s arousing.

Beauty in a cloudy sky, chaos in the city, creativity in architecture,
These things you may see, but right now… it’s my eyes you’re looking into.

Cool, creamy milk quenching your thirst, the warm sun scorching your skin, butterflies that kiss your shoulder,
These things you may feel, but right now… it’s my touch that’s blessing.

Choir singing, ocean waves crashing, your best friends laughing,
These things you may hear, but right now… it’s my voice you’re listening to.