the harder it's exposed, the harder to make true,
i'd rather just take two
moving through the oblongata to the navel:
that's a fucked up angle, like taking cuts from anvils,
*clink, clank* jump back,
remember the loving jangle of my mother’s bangles,
stuck in sandals;
never learned how to do up laces. grew up basic,
chewed up Asics, Pops, props: dude wasn’t faceless,
maybe just a fool, and ancient,
learnt the hues of a bruise in places
(still sometimes choose to taste it),
me i knew few faces, just knew the way which
was to pay my dues to be due a payslip,
accrued the patience, now move with sapience.
relaying wisdom and this verse ain't even written,
deconstruct the clock: you've a circadian rhythm,
disengage from the prison & find your way out the system.
take your time,
Time is bitten: consistent with these words and their mission,
you ain't the First, you a pilgrim,
fuck your purse and position!
understand it is written... you're; the words; all its fiction.
-- all the friction from the grind's quite worthless,
just to face-fuck anything that's divine: like earth is.
(mis)understand how blundered man is by times working,
timed work-slips, it's underhand... my spine diverges.
rhyme surgeon, a blind virgin took time learning
the eyes purpose obscures that which your mind searches.
whatever. doubt i'll ever know,
spit heat whatever the weather yo,
never let a beretta go,
yet better with clever flows
that'll end a pretender, no...
instead rock a headdress where holy feathers fold,
i wanna be about peace, or love. dead nouns
and Red Cloud(s) up where... only heaven knows.
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