27/27

Pollen on my lips, I love to kiss you; Missing the elliptical at Equinox A full eclipse And I've never known anything to smell to sweet as this, Just naturally I'd loved to be loved But I'm just getting famous I guess that's the trade, then A sacrifice, as if I'd not already lost my life, —Or slit my wrists Intermittent 5th dimension Tim, or what they used to call him… But he can't remember. This is major Tom, Another psalm Or poem, From Ms. Gypsy Spinning into mixes, Drifting into spiderwebs as a reminder She would write for The Times, Like the power, or a webinar She borrowed the guitar. Which then, became a gift So she dismissed him—the minister. Or who administers the medicine Of the administration Menustration , under stress of course Or as she keeps on fasting For Last Earth Seeing things? Certainly! I've been fasting, and under the influence of Dillon Francis God Dammit Hanzel Did you have to Hold her hand And have the other one Covered in Kandi On that album cover?! I can't stand it Whatever the master plan is Give me the schematics, quick So I can land a man to match with That holds a candle To that piñata Maybe I should shapeshift into Taylor Swift So I can get some dick in The right complexion… Is that too explicit? Or maybe I should just stick to Skrillex The first on my wishlist— Until Kayla Lauren (Or the other ones— And there's a lot of em; The rabbit's always on the run) Hey Allison Or Alex— Yeah, that's it I'm still an insomniac Just trying to forget that I'm black And only mildly attractive With a New New York accent And sudden onset passive aggression From the stress and pressure of synethesia And mastering my tracks Without another expensive subscription And another one Here comes another one The sun just spins in circles and whistles This is the worst I've ever written with indifference ‘Fear nothing' On, the fire burns And nothing more she ever feared It only gets better from here It only get better from here It only gets better from here Still, my love burns Like a smouldering flame Here, a star was born from the ashes, Destined for fame ‘Avarita,' She called, from the caverns of lust— The curse has been broken Come dawn, from the dusk So much for purpose— Gone was the suffering; Sending smoke signals to dieties Laying beneath all the names, The labels so sacred Such secrets and fables, The table of L E G E N D S All worlds collide in collisions of conciousness, space, and time as we travel the ever-infinite multidimensions of existence as we know it… (Or—Don't.) Rules of Time Travel: Don't