018/365

In my cloudiest of moment
I turn this down.
On my life. On the work. On the music in the background.
The rhythm of words hurts the loud thumping beat
Rattling the seat
Curb, sat down the street
Small fleet, couldn’t repeat
The sequence I can’t see
Brainstorming
Alarming the charming
Harm me
Flavored and contagious
These cheap imitation
Weak inspirations

Erase these
Fakers
Take these
Take hers

Think first
Reverse
This curse

Counting black
Saddled and back
To battle, and that
Paddle can’t handle
The peddle to the metal
With a rebel
It’s settled
Don’t meddle

Fiddle in the middle
Newer flow getting brittle

It’ll harden
And pardon
My word garden
Close, but far when
I start, then
I’ll smarten the coastal stow and stay
the stow away thoughts left to say
To play in the background
When the volume makes that sound
It fades to black how
Smart ass fat beats now
Do last but stand loud
Drop the dow
Financial owe
Substantial crowd
Standing proud
Lasting Bows

The words plow and strife
Hurds without life
Hordes of ideas with sharp fucking knives

Forceful

Onto pages of lifeless stages
Lifeless wages
Faceless places
Stay with this
Taste the bliss
Completionist
This is it
This is it
This is it

Spit it out
And Let it sit