#9820

I’m no savant physics is tricky I’m no rags to riches story I’m no Hemingway Monet Gandhi or anything great, I’m just an ashtray of cigarettes smoked to the filter complete with the wrinkled patina, I’m just the drop of water that created the crack in the sidewalk you stutter step over towards tomorrow’s prettier parcels with no recognition of the feat accomplished, im nothing more than a gallon of ink and 2 feet trying to sort out a million words subconsciously affecting my sleep tendencies, remember me that’s all I’m asking if one person saves memory of me then this life was worth it, swerving, cause change is the only constant prominently relative to the life we’re working towards, stressing, you can feel it in my slightly sweaty grip at introduction, initially counter productive till paired up with the venomous adrenaline administered from your irises seduction next comes the influx of words confetti collected cleverly connected to master the art of laughter and laugh with her as long as it last cause when that’s past tense those are the moments you’ll reminisce