Let my words splatter, recoup and collect the mess/ then group them with “it was written” inked on my flesh/ wrap my burial in my words allow us to remain fresh/ humanity will know the subject was dying to digress/ dying to deviate from the same fate as the rest/ the only person I envy, myself at my best/ the only ones I love are tatted on my chest/ stops on my heart, a consistent cardiac arrest/ and it’s funny I constantly kill upon request/ as I put my heart in it to relieve my stress/ the first thing that I’ve never second guessed/ an ability with words is why I’m blessed.
Verbose Musings 