I feel like
Silence is
The answer
To a mathematical
Problem
The equation
Space
To make
A novel
Praised
For the
Use to
Silence-err
Couldn’t see
What I mean
With a monical
You couldn’t
Feel my Words
With a key
To catch
Up with
the day
Locked
Out of
Thankfulls
And thank
you’s
Your own
Answer
Or is it
Protection
For what’s
To come
A mediphor
Unpluged
Giving you
The truth
In the
Feeling
Of what
Is why
I go by
And go
Through
As a silencer
No fake
Smiles
To pardon
You
From death
Till only
I am left
Boyyy!
It’s some secrets in that
Grass filled nut cluster.
Only place in the City
With those many agonising.
Fuss over those plasma gases,
Erupting. The remaining broken
dreams. I’m sorry……….
For all those secrets to
Whom I was a major resident…
Of…
Seen more and, more broken
Dreams piled up in my memories…
I’m sorry…
I’m sorry that I had no compassion.
Iron wounds room, rounds, half fumigated.
can still smell the faces. The secrets…
Dribbled to dabbled.
From some grapes to raisins….
From Billboards new state
where some secrets were staged..
Loved ones missing days.
Months of sleep.
Imagine how that hard dirt felt
Keep secrets yet… Only
Those of them became worthy. the grounds creepier states… Of mind…
No capability, lack there
Of Santa’s gifts.
So many secrets
Sooooo so many secrets
That those dirty dandelions
Wanted to tell…
Even if those ugly weeds
could…
They’d become a secret to…
One of a promised action
Without the need for
Currency.
Sooo many secrets in my
Dreams! They’ll Rome forever.
I’m good at keeping
Our giant show time secrets
for you….
No matter what…
Vanished!
“Browning Of The Roux”
Quit bitching
Folk.
You’d probably
Throw up.
All in your
Mouth till you choke.
Can I get
A witness from.
Those who
Have been.
Subjected
To all types.
Of murder
Entrapments.
Oppression,
War, discrimination,
PTSD.
Hold up
Now!
Real PTSD
From rebel enemies.
Infidels to
See your well being.
Lifeless, loving
Less, teenager’s.
Killers with Chips
in there britches.
Masked up
Then home invaded.
Ransom shit
Stripped till humiliated.
Starving for the,
Lost betters.
From a bitter
No better life.
Always, off,
Scedual…
Fuck Your
Money!!
Though my
Tribe maybe starving…
Staying on
Dope just to gets sleep!
Drinking liquor to
Heal from the beating!!
Cocaine in my
Veins, staying awake!!!
For days!!!!
To dodge all
The heathens!!!!!
And if I bleed
Today!!!!!!
You will surely be
Murdered this evening!!!!!!!
They don’t give
A fuxk what we believe in…
BITCH IM BLAXKK!
BUT TO ALL MY
OPPRESSED ALL!
AROUND THE WORLD!
PLEASE DON’T BE SEATED!
EVEN IF DIFFERENT
CIRCUMSTANCES!
YOU ARE NOT ALONE!
THOUGH WAR MAYBE
INEVITABLE!
MOST OF THE
WORLD DONT GIVE!
A FUCK ABOUT
USSS!!
OR SHIT ABOUT
WHAT WE GO THROUGH!!
SAYING AND PRAYING
AND POSTING!
IS LIKE A FAD OR
BANDWAGON!
BUT IF YOU AINT
FIGHTING WITH US!
ALONGSIDE IN US!
ANYWAY!!
FUXK YA WORDS,
PROMISES, AID,
PROTEST!
LETS FIGHT
FOR OUR SELVES!
FOR BETTER PROGRESS!
KEEP YA SMILES
AND RACE OR RELIGION!
SPLAININGS!
CALL ME WHAT YOU
WANT!
THATS ALL YOU
GOOD AT IS HATING!!!
lowering…
lowering…
Deeper than usual…
Almost touching the bottom of life…
Through holy water…
A deference is made to see that I’m not drowning…
Why didn’t I…
All the sinning plus visions of my hanging…
Feet dangling, hanging from a multitude of bad news…
I cut myself free…
Falling through nothing…
Noting that would or could hold…
Me…
My life of weaving hand signs…
To spare the next mans cries…
will still leave me to eternal damnation…
I don’t need no golden ticket…
All I ask for is for my offspring to never be who I was…
In my past living…
Seduce me with cold blooded exitic Burmese albino python infrared sences of powerfull mirrored affliction………
Both victims to blues singers…
Both victims of lost angels…
Both victims of being notorious states…
Bad vibe for good intent to fake your way into my head…
It worked only to jam signals in brain waves…
It worked only to back fire on you instead…
It worked for you to your own amusement…
Till I became nutral in obsession…
The ship of relations were parked in correction…
Amusement park style creation…
You were the only one who didn’t have fun….
I was a sucker, court jester, joker of chump traids and trails to minipulate….
Now the most influential, intelligent 5 star war general with big genitals!
Now you want to be friends!
The character you assassinated in me has rebuilt! Becoming everything that you wanted again!
Don’t try to hug me!
Dont even look my way!
Your offensive faceless brittle eyes…
With out speaking….
I herd you cry out….
“Come back to me!”
Your actions already spoke to me!
bye bye…
lie lie…
Teeth rotting silently sensually dangerous.
Running through my system like love boat, wet angel dust.
I unfastened my eyes open.
Sounds of my cell phones vibrating dance.
A punch of adrenaline courses it’s self through out my body’s vains.
I saw your number and photo pop up on the screen.
I got dressed in your heat for me.
Wearing you like a cursed marked cloak.
Invisible!
Envisions of the general enimies that you spoke.
From your tone of voice.
I separate myself.
No more fuck ups or slip ups when your around.
Sensitivity that I seldom produced
You’ve admired wanting to be solid like me.
No feeling…
No pulse…
I hope you never switch up your diet for me dinning on me.
My eardrums play a song.
Dieing to here your vocals everytime you ghost whispered my name out.
I love you…
I need you…
No!!
Never no seperation…
Lord give me the patients…
From day one I never thought of you as a stranger…
Loving you…
Loving you…
Loving you…
Stays my only life gaurd…
Besides burners…
Remember…
“Put those down!”
You said…
“Pick me up!”
“Squeeze my trigger instead” …
You said….
“Check the ripeness of my forbidden fruit”…
You said…
“I’m still alive”…
You…
Said….
I once looked up to you like you were a giant. I never would have known that you would turnstile like this…
Fuck is you talkin bout!
O.G. of what?!
Motha fucka you is a bitch and a petty thief. You is a grown ass man and if you stood on a skyscraper you couldn’t stand taller den me. You couldn’t go harder den me Its a damn shame you use to be a fatha to me. You got a excellent family but you’re fucken selfish. Your own kids want you delt wit. See… You fucken wit suicide shorty from Da 40s you don’t want these nightmares to come alive and ruin ya party.
Crash it you bastard. Like driving a car with no keys. You wear your life backwards like Chris Cross. Stop fucken actin like you hard. What kind of man hates on his sons for succeeding and trying to go far. You miserable pillow talka and Percocet stalka. At your funeral I’m gunna crack beers on ya coffin.
You shady motha fucka. Tom Brady motha fucka. Stay out my fucken way for I jam you like a 380. motha fucka. You got a good family but you is a shady motha fucka. You got a great wife that stuck by you and raised your baby’s motha fucka. You cheated on her not once not twice. You must be a crazy motha fucka. You’re a washed up old bitch you should walk with a cane motha fucka. Ya hair line receding like LeBron James motha fucka. Soon you’ll lose everything that you should have been close to you stupid lazy motha fucka. For the record I fucken hate you unstable motha fucka.
Nightmare on elm street. Someone or something ominous possess my dreams night and day. The suspect is a omen of evil that circles my mental physique like a burning hula hoop melting my consciousness disconnecting me from all that is good. I can’t fight it so I invite it to crawl out of the mirror and keep me company satisfing my loneliness and emptiness. It’s very presence makes me stronger and stronger. Immune to all forms of positivity. Grabbing me with its cold clutches as it digs into the back of my neck till it gets in my brain and takes over all of my humanly functions and emotions. I’m now distant and aggravated revolving in and out of two worlds. Is it heaven or hell? Then the vultures swooped down and ate at my dried up corps.
Reality Is The New Negativity Vol.1 