the conversations are never about what you really care to talk about we’re sitting around talking in circles and the only questions…
A poem —
What can the earth do for me?Asked DeathMused EgoBruise our free willGreen numbers tattooedYellow…
pale waves of mistas I kiss & bless youwe slip along these walkways in the skyrain seeps through tearsin my heart, so scared am I…
I Wasn’t Supposed To Go Back