You keep letting me walk away as if I am a/stray, with ashes from my rim down to my decisions that cloud up my revisions of marking my territory, finding solitude in the caves and alleyways of the gray city…
Bumpin in the urban, to music, undeservin of the way life throws its curves, swerves, and has the nerve
To treat me as the one kind who is unkindly.
I’m binding my spine to the pages of this half ass, dog eared book we call life…
Once the pages start flying away we
Get blinded with a smack in the face and disgraced with the dripping words that have been misplaced…
As if I were a G where an E shouldn’t B… ♭, is my stomach…
I don’t want it…
Just to be spiteful might do for you
But there’s ne’er a clue that leads to the great Blue I the sky; in the chair actually,
But you sent me away so there’s no factual truth…
In my image you’ve been created… But you sent me away, so where are you?
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