Untitled

Electric heart,

fused together,

singing 1,2,3 forever.

 

Head high, hung to dry

Looking down from god's eyes.

 

Hey! I got my heart on you, fake my faker's blood on you.

I got this track devoid love less love blind.

Pains me to act this way better to lack therefore I am this way.

Train me to play your game, I act, attend and faith the seventh of heavens.

I am what I am not and am not what I am.

 

Chicken (s**t) liver (guts),

place the mirror on the mind.

Fever break out of this trance,

fake the make-up,

play button romance.
Drag your heart out.

Drag it through the mud.

Wet cement heart ache.

Break the gun out.

Break it out,

plugged it up.

Sank in the dry dream.

 

I am one with the Naked Baby.

I am the Naked Baby.
I am the heart of it.

I cast the mold.

I broke the muck of it,

then I raked your bones.

It's time to say please.

It's time to say please.

It's time to say please.

It's time to say please.

Insert Untitled Crappy Void.

Author's Note

It is what it is.

Reviews

[Siddartha Beth Pierce]

I love the freestyle of this piece...I can feel dismay yet an underlying hopefulness in the Self that wants so deeply to break through. Cheers my friend!
Light,
Siddartha

[cynicalbeliever]

i get a sense of apathy yet anger behind this, needless to say i love it! keep up the good work man

[Liz]

You've got an interesting piece of writing going on here. I think I can sense some anger within the writer? My favorite lines are "head high, hung to dry.. looking down from god's eyes." Good job, I like it!