griffin

pure thoughtstreams

projected thru time space

in conscious objectivity

loosely jointed idioms

confused w metaphors

i’m awfully tired of it

a string of fuck u’s

connected by common threads

of congeniality

contradictions

causing me great despair

but still i write them here

hm

if i was a poet would u love me?

if i quit texting at 2am would u love me?

if i slept till noon would u love me?

im not sure i love myself

something tells me its not fair

to expect others to do what u can’t.

but my mind is running

questions swirling in the aether

flirting w death

(whos demeanor is remarkable, mind you)

just to feel the rush

i know theres bigger problems.

short sighted troubles

forcing my hand i

store the potential energy

unleashing it on unsuspecting painters

https://soundcloud.com/grifcantsleep

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