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The lips of my brain Were born to be insane Driven to rust Life was clearly my lust  My worth defined by dirty words that often weren't even heard A soulful sorrow of judgement
Humidity is a bitch to me. It’s alive. Sitting on cement, slapped fresh by Texas afternoon rain. Microscopic droplets carry home, lingering oils resting on cheeks. Clouds from above float through chambers of my lungs.
Scratch our story into skin flip my pages thin you’ll never forget me.   Justify my every move to conform to nothing in my naked mind.   You assure me I’m alive
My eyes are wildflowers Dirt roads. Weeds and Willow trees   Main stream is cement. Dead. My dreams must live and breathe   I won’t be anything but myself. Otherness.
Dear outsider,  I've never seen you before, perhaps because I'm blind.  Blind to the hidden beauty of the world.  Blind to potential. Blind to unconventional people,
I, a nonconformist with melanin, that's a death wish! Well give me liberty or give me death push me out the nest and wish me the best!
In a moment
Sitting on this moldy sofa At this boring party Everyone around me Acting like they’re the hottest thing I’m watching them all Pondering All the life advice I’ve heard About individuality
My mind is a portal to worlds of possibilities of success. There I sit in my imaginary kingdom of ease and finesse While I caress my thoughts of future glory and a new kind of persona- A man that will generate much fame and renown.
please beware the end is near when it gets here i expect you to care if you do then head my advice if you dont youve been warned for when we reach the end the rope
Defiance be not so untrue A fire to be fanned A child to be nurtured Let nothing be unquestioned If the minds shrink life will not swell Let the mind and soul flow Hearts of the people will never die
Your moonbeam eyes eclipsed by all these black hole nights where shadows come to play waning away at your apocalyptic dreams of atoms splitting at the seams fracturing your
The walls just keep crumbling... Into the sea in which I keep fumbling As I looked upon the water something I wasn't able to see A reflection of my world and the reflection of me
We line up like marching ants We listen to the Queen Bee.   Tell me what to do  Tell me what to be    I sweat  I smell I stress   The #2 pencil shakes in my hand
The aesthetic beauty of the mind to behold. Not one can abate my hunger, my disease, I've come upon these thoughts to ponder, The substantial blank you bring appease. To whom to which the eyes behold,
I saw a million people Standing on a hill, Under the grey and square sky. When I went to ask them, What they were doing, They remained silent.  
One day, The lights will glint off this finger and catch the eye of others who shall see and be something like Expectant or Jealous or-- Something Else that will make me feel more or less
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