Pre-Post-Recovery

The break
The fake till
Maker’s Marky Mark 
can faint the day’s away

Day by day it takes and takes
It takes some patience paid to take the cake

Pick up the pace a piece by piece
The peace awaits the need to read
The space between the lines in line
inclined to face and defeat the beast

Try every day to concede the need
Try just to say you don’t need the need
Try with a little bit of time to decide that the lie
of your needs was the key to breathe

Just smoke blown out the windows of your souly soul
Hold the phone if solely so you can slow your roll to a stoner’s stroll

And scroll down the screen of your favorite memes
To distract and to seem like it barely seems
That the seams of your teens are blowing out
when it means that your seeds are growing now

So fuck the break it can suck a bag of hefty dicks
Like the President blocking the Mexicans
The break holds hostage the next to sin 
but leaves to life the real you invested in

That’s continuous and levitated evolution
Ain’t ambiguous to figure it a resolution
Tastes like a rollup before it blows loud
As the siren of time turns to a white cloud

High now

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