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you are emotional luggage
if i could just find someone or something i could pass on the burden of your existence an easy exchange but unfair to your nothing cause you think nothing of turbans and persistence listen for you have ravaged me, myself and the world you are too much physical baggage to dump all you have done is hurt old, damaged knees so keeping my kindness to the lowest degree this is for you old cunty donald trump
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sometimes i like to stay there you know that place where i’m at my worst the feeling of tears rolling down and a stomach that's filled with dead flowers i wish i had that power to get through to you head that youré hurting me i am aware that i am not good enough and that i fail at a lot of things i do i knew that if my goals took the form of a tower i could only climb to the first level but from the bellow of that higher than me sight i dream i always sought to make you proud you see me climbing but i see a crippled boy who has yet to grow who has yet to learn who has yet to accomplish mature feats i see a boy who instead sees the tower as a target i will burn it down and make my goals reachable each level one by one falling to my feet where i make it my own you and everyone else can keep telling me how i should reach these heights but i will reach it my own way my own way cause in the end there's only two things that matter actually getting to that destination and how i got there
the toothpaste
try to put some sense into yourself it’d make sense if just gave a cent or two for the people who could use some centre i am part of a select centre of people who cant find the centre of gravity so they instead look to edges to find some meaning towards intentions of deleting a conversation that would rather be forgotten a fog so rotten to leave a taste in your mouth cause i taste defeat when a french inhale lets breath escape but you were just too late to have gotten to the bottom of a food chain with some tooth paste oh i feel the pasta and you gave me a whole platter of survivors when i went diver when you offered me the last bite but the last bite still isn’t the first I want the whole feast you spit fairy dust on a cold bruised night i say i want peace but to just say the least i wanna fight about this cause maybe if i just could peek into not so lady colours we could mix to arcady i consider my self an architect of anarchy how can i be a narcissist when all that i consider is my two left feet when i stumble upon my insecure perfections they like to be cocky but i guess thats just cause they don’t exist
with yours truly - a wontsee realist
Sorry...Green Lantern looks pathetic. wontsee
