desolate desire speaks for itselflonely little feeling lingeringinside I plead with the painlet me beit hurts to the coresilence interrupted sadly causes my soul to waneif it weren't true you'd say somethingwithin the mortal storm feel so muchbut understand...

darkness bane I'm insane it is a painful understandinginside I twist while you insist you love meperhaps it is my skewed vision that is offmy perception of love... askewdastardly the way it creeps under your skinthreading its way through...

In art I find shelterI go away from the stormI pour my teacupAnd burn, burn, burn.

     “Light-skin, dark-skin, white, Mexican or IndianHo’s hate, because for the man it is another win,     “True peace will always overcome pussy and loss of paperA bitch coming sideways-alright. I might see her ass later,     “Thot-Nation...