She gasped for breath from treading death in the shadows,
Consequences had wept dearly from the myths of this battle.
Arms lashed knees rashed she's been out for days,
Ski mask imbued laughs is what she described him in pain.
Mineral supplements as she puffed again for a breather,
Father figure was the seeker who was her brothers keeper.
Death resolved around this small town she called home,
Hopeless and cold, grew alone W/ no belief of what she had told,
She was marked but with this art the end was vague and abrupt,
Producers telling me don't and that I wasn't made for this stuff.
.
.
.
Panivorous; my wishful thinking has gone astray,
Deliverance is what their trending I can actually save.
They'd say stop dreamin' focus on what isn't admissable,
How am I living when what I'm crafting is pitiful.
Content is liberal but to me I'm what was needed,
Passing of torch to keepers instead of attending it's grievance.
Amongst these heathens they were missing the key,
The raw emotion that leaked was surreal to actually be.
Yet u question the scene but the truth I solemnly speak,
That girl who was raped and missing was actually me.
Instead of salting the wound I wrote it concealed,
Hid my pain behind the quill till I could feel the scars had healed.
THIS WAS MY IDEA OF COPING
"What is the most resilient parasite? Bacteria? A virus? An intestinal worm? An idea. Resilient. Highly contagious. Once an idea has taken hold of the brain it's almost impossible to eradicate. An idea that is fully formed — fully understood —that sticks."— Cobb.
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