Mattachuuu

Three cold coins cast weights in his pockets that's one for the ferryman but two for the heroin and three states of being were left out as an option birth, life, and death and he chose to choose none of them you'd think that he could smell the approaching Death if he hadn't sand blasted his nose to nary a snort in Life's breath. and maybe he wouldn't have been blind to other paths but it's hard to see the future from a low hung head so swing low, and take a taste of the madness but take a dip like a quill in ink to create your life's masterpiece and if you sink too low then then just brush it off naturally because nothings permanent and u

When he winced and put another pinch up his nose he laughed and huffed gasses that make cars go faster. He’s an asshole who robs you blind at kind point each dollar cast away with a smile but he still wants more. Veins collapsed, a heart beat to death wheezes or it would if failed lungs hadn’t already ceased breathing. He’s agape left gasping with hate, for the thing that saved him took away his only escape. snow driven adrenalin pushes him into a tar pit. He’d be never heard from again, for it’s a sure thing he’d drown in it. if it wasn’t for friends love the he’d be another eulogy and a fuck

It's not all in the hype, see? You still have to set your roots. Mine just happen to be hyphy. I'm split-even like coduceus fueled by semi-synthetic ergot infested magic rye. I'm a nice guy who likes long walks on the beach, my molly actually sass, but still crystalline, and using my spare time to visit worlds- dimethyl triptyline lyrics are a pattern. Whose divination's just a gift to me. "They" tell me what to write, point at you, and scream "REPEAT AFTER ME!" A little dab will do ya. "How bout a line or two sir?" "Dude, what about your health? Do think that that's conducive?" No, I think it's magic. It's talking to god. I love it mor

Not a line to sit half a happy couplet. All the metaphors aren't fives but still love to hear speech through crooked slant rhyme. All the while wear a stupid half simile. Ain't an old poet; though, old speech spoke colloquially: speak Modern-English romanticized chatter, fluently. Not a line to sit half a happy couplet. All the while wear a stupid half simile. Fluently.

The old man lived in a house of gold bricks and thought his life a dream. Though, when he paid for happiness brick by brick he had company but, no place to sleep. A house is not a home and a home sure ain't a bank. Though, when you're cold and lonely with possessions to spare what would posses you to think happiness comes cheep? The old man spent it all away on a cashed cache o' bucks. That son of a bitch couldn't buy happiness but, he sure found it when he stopped giving a fuck.

The trees leaves leave, casting not shadows, but bitter memories of a full head of hair. Willow's weep in winters dead grasp and send not a prayer nor death rattle only silent sighs resign to fate. All will always be lush and green; for, even when it is not I pretend my vegetation is large and pristine and think myself an evergreen.

I was born a monster before a man. Honestly, I'm a cannibal. I never hesitate just so long as it's consensual. Lose the shirt and pants; speech not necessarily sequential. If you're in a pinch I could pinch too, if that's what you're in to. I have a hunger in my chest that was formed up in my own mind. I'd probably worry about my cockiness if I wasn't so spineless. I'd lie if I was in a bind. Though, I'd rather bind you and play 'Risk', We'll just live 'Life'. while you use your mouth to 'Sink my Battleship'. Okay, what you want, you can't always get. That's alright with me because I get to WANT to get. Yo, I heard the wind sing strong tha

Just about the only things I can't hold onto, a steady job and my sanity. you know this. Bong star goes hard when ripping himself down gravity. acid head-dead, straight curvy, slightly underweight and made of lead. amphetamine found on the day to day adulterous adulterants found in high dose in cheap MDMA. either-way, pure or not, I'm just happy to be happy, happily- fuck off. drop a call- drop a line got a dime piece? Then, man, everything fine we go tradesys, man, it's crazy, but the higher I get the less the worry 'bout what 'crazy' means.

No day has a hold on me. I am ever changing, ethereal to the touch of wrinkled hands, a pass to unknown parties as yesterday to today, and today to tomorrow.