A Voyage
A tripA voyage,
You say
Your fucking grammar
Your fucking names
You know the place
The place we say
The things we need
The things we pray
To come to be
And go away
The things that sit
And leach away
Your will to be
Your will to hate
Because you will learn
That that's all that makes
A person you
A person made
It's not thinking ryhmes
It's blowing shade
It's fuck you too
Your poisons made
It's fuck me too
My drinks delayed
It's that emotion
That red red blade
That cuts through me
And makes me fade
That makes a person
A person made
Poetry by Elliot
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Written on 2017-08-27 at 08:16
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shells |
Kathy Lockhart |
Texts |
by ElliotLatest textsYou readers, yes youA simple lack A Voyage Nature made Why is this so slow |
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