PLants

I’ve left the angels share and the devils take, I’ll be somewhere in between

All these walking mirrors and hanging moments

seludid arenity

My capability in bone and blood, Glancing upon these broken things

Curse for breakfast and any time the meal..my existence digests the negative

Spin the wheel

I found the shelves in my mind the ones yet and those behind..trace is present and late isn’t possible for my kind. Amongst storms and ocean bellows lake shores creeks and hollows all things nature follows

All art in life pace the market if love considers war fair what makes the best creative target

I’ll be there

I slept on a cot pulled up to a recliner in hotels and still found myself to be lucky. I am not sure I run from pain or just into it. I’d prefer to run from my fools but that is a tragedy as well. So they’ll rest in suspense and as needed reveal. How many hands the blood? The sand>how many have felt MIne

Hotel sink full of 40s and me lofting about in a realm, fear is the parrot upon my shoulder. Telling me back only what I teach it. So more liquor and steady the life afore the dream. And when the liquor fails another the action.

I know the desired state in many but something is more important than that. Once cursed and told the power of money, breakfast and lunch this time. Water with intent