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Talk and Balk

Some say I am quiet,
until I start to talk
AND I hate the world,
more often than not
and most times,
I will balk
and walk
away and leave
and I cannot
comprehend
why the end
doesn't find me
Darkness like sleep
come and bind to me

and meanwhile I try,
and self-destruct but I am on empty
Self-sabotage, seems to have its
fucking way with me
takes over and
 I know
that it is me,
but what is the code?
Do U KNOW?!?!
DO U KNOW?!?!
DO U KNOW!?!?
CUZ I DON'T
AND NOW I WON'T
AND IT ALL SEEMS
TO BE CRUMBLING
CRACKING AND BREAKING,
THE MISTAKES I AM MAKING
FUCK IT
LET'S ALL START
THE TUMBLING

the sky really falls,
 that lil chick
was really on to somethin'
cranium pain
from heavy
gravity bumpin'
Newton asleep,
apple made him blink
and then it
made him think

My own thoughts, are
not quite what
Sir Isaac was
Canvas and paper
the airbrush vapor
communicate
hate and love

but mostly hate,
as I look at my
portfolio
Never allowed to start
caught up,
and not allowed to grow

kept in the same place,
although the pace
merely more bullshit
fuck the pain
I say again
Tired of
all of it

ART will be my lover
and together
we will go
and I guess that is enough for ME
to see the painting flow



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