(Some Def. Poetry kinda shit because it’s real Lol. – 12.12.13 @ 1:31pm)
I’d never read this to you without wearing white because it’s like Crack.
I just write this so I can put my mind to rest,
see you again and not startle you and make you drop the cup that is my heart.
The best part of fear is holding your hand.
The worst part is my knees and how they can’t stand to let another moment go ‘BYE’ without confessing to thee oh God.
My plans to bring death to my wavering hands with a 6 foot rod.
One day, but why tomorrow?
Why can’t we just.. borrow the Afternoon and ween it off sorrow and make full of it the present.
What am I afraid of?
I’m Afraid that when we hurt each other, We’ll both feel it.
Afraid that you are a pirate that collects those silver coins to reveal it.
Afraid that you set me on fire to make sure I’m still feeling you.
Afraid that when we made those plans to see distant lands, that they were so true – you’re already mad that you left a bag on the plane because we were talkING and you got side tracked, and I alright gotta pull out the map
to your smile because, I have that.
Putting my foot out to see if your still falling because I be trippin’
It wasn’t suppose to be like this, it was written to be like this.
I perspire when remembering the day I began to fall for the Writer.
Elevators, planes, and most marijuana strains can’t get me higher.
What a intrinsic nature to canvasas, it’s your… indispensable quality.
Time is of the essence but rushing just seems to bother me.
Venting? Yeah probably…
but it felt good.
Got My rifle, back on the job hunt. Jobs hide in library light fixtures.
* – marks the beginning and ending of a stanza
A bolder of shoulder, thankful that I told ya. Thank yall for coming on the site…..atleast I got y’all to talk too Lol. B-)