i suspect this is over, there isn't a thing worth writing, not any longer.
i don't write on here as often as i used to but haven't you heard i'm in a mother fuckin rap crew, we have shows and shit but our shows are shit (except their not) and writing decent raps to spit on the stage is harder for me then writing this silly poetry. i could just write what you're used to hearing, how if i were dead and dust, six feet under and the soles of your shoes walked above me my heart would still beat that dust like the blood never stopped because a real kiss quickens that beat beat beat past one hundred times a minute, but oh well. when a muse is found the writing will quicken just the same.
- ▼ July (2)
- ► 2010 (185)