Soaring as a narcissistic Eagle.

I soar like an Eagle, gliding right; dabbling in lefts. My mind fixates upon an immense goal and my bleeding, large feet grasp the barrier; first scrapping off the dead corpses of the lesser – quickly eating the others , in a vigorous manner – this massive barrier, has multiple chapters, and worded paper – to me, this is the greatest of the my nutritious meal – money, knowledge and i symbolize freedom. Each barrier is taken upwards, taken for myself, those around, gasp in disbelief, ponder perfection, yet i keep flying upwards, increasing in speed, until i find my nest…

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My girl doesn’t want to be found

the bed stays aside; forever becoming apart, forever needing to be away from what locks me down and holds me captive, within the sheet’s my heart is held there, it wonders yet is lost. it needs release, i need happiness, I need her. I pursue what she said i can’t have what i can’t conquer, little does she know i’m already plotting on winning, to overcoming the mountain, to pursuing what she said i can’t; i’m a loser, a lost cause, that’s what she assumes said, i was her world; her biggest want, but now i’m feeling past aside, yet i climb the mountain, and i will make the summit, whether rested or not.

Drug Dealers Have an Expiry Date Too

Crack floods the streets spreading out like a web, white, expensive and addictive. Affecting those in it’s area, prayed upon by the spider – vicious and heartless. Music vibrates and enjoyed by the arachnid… he becomes more vicious, more demanding, he lifts the table in a tantrum, scaring those around, showing the concrete jungle that he’s the man to fear – The vibrations heighten the ego it progresses dangerously high, dangerously fast. furthering the destruction within their community. Building crumble as they’re built. Lives end as they begin to walk. And yet we hope things will become better, but they were better, time passed and we overlooked it.

The crack pipe becomes hot; the crack depleted – The piles of money grow to “beautiful heights”, car’s get more expensive and have more functions that aren’t used, never admired – They’re forgetting what they’ve learned, before their innocence was quickly taken away… subjected to a street life, that’s taken away their uniqueness, free-will. Another sold soul. Another soul bought by the devil himself. In an art form that was suppose to uplift the community within rather than become mainstream and lead them astray.

They’re in a robotic-state, operating on a mere level, operating by incentive, chasing a bill that will never arrive, never hold for a long duration, everything in a “trap life” has an expiry date. Including lives.

their soul’s become devil-bound, their eyes become deepened, bloodshot, their grip tightens, as they’re wielding their firearm – Rapper’s fighting to be heard, drug dealer’s fighting to be seem. The crack man, want’s death, his next fix – but never repairs anything – he want’s to fade away… death’s becoming vast, across Canada, crack strengthens, mixed with fentanyl… the bodies begin to stack, they begin to heighten; bodies shake, their heart seizes, their heart stops pumping as it did… but still the drug dealer heighten his “flow”, because that’s all he’s grown to know. He values money because it will fulfill’s him, while his soul saddens, walks amongst the Earth with a hallow frown. Looking, searching for more… but never getting the more it wants, it needs.

Fentanyl. Crack. Bodies Stack

Crack floods the streets, spreading out like a web, affecting those in it, prayed upon by the spider, black, and cold – pockets become large. music vibrates and enjoyed by the arachnid… Heightening the ego, furthering the destruction, the crack pipe becomes hot; the crack depleted – The piles of money grow, their families prosper, their soul’s become devilish, their eyes grow deep, their eyes bloodshot, their grip tightens – Rapper’s fighting to be seen, drug dealer’s fighting to be seen, the crack man, want’s death, his next fix – but never repairs anything – he want’s to fade away… death’s becoming vast, across Canada, crack strengthens, mixed with fentanyl… the bodies begin to stack, they begin to heighten; bodies shake, their heart seizes, their heart stops pumping as it did… but still the drug dealer heighten his “flow”.

Possible Death

Tears do not release from my ducts, i know they’re looking for freedom; the heaviness of the world keeps them captive, flowers that grew so quickly, become brown, the pedals are falling, finding release in the air… the wind carrying them away, and seemingly vanishing instantly – The Earth is becoming heavy upon my back. My back aches, my legs tighten, my tears won’t shed, and i’m seemingly alone. Butterfly’s remind me of how she made me feel, what she did for me, my hope disappears. As i remember the times we’ve shared, i pin-point each location we’ve talked about; they’re coming towards with quick, ease. They begin a shadow of irrational thoughts within my mind, haunting my heart. Each emotions feels strongly hit, almost knocking me down, yet my my mind won’t let forget, my legs won’t strengthen to carry my new load. Another butterfly surrounds my body…. I look up and the flowers are looking more horrid, the time tick’s slow, my heart pounds… and i begin….

Forgotten Play-ground, Hears laughter.

In the playground we once played, the swings became rusted, the ropes knotted and old. The slide broken. The screams we once heard became vivid memories we once enjoyed. Our iPhones become new and heavily used, the screen high definition, the processor fast. Our brains became unused. I still go to the ‘ground i once admired, nothing appears the same, the generation is regressing to their device. around my eyes become drenched because i pray for the day’s where the man was man. and the slide was usable, the swings swung. and the ground printed with happiness.

I love her.

I hurt her, the words vicious, the mind infuriated… her love pure, effortless, strong. She held my hand, she helped me up, gave me all-of-her love… I took her love and abused her mind… She’s wiser, i played a game, within her’s – a test. as the time goes by, i try to make it up to her, to give her my hand, but she’s neglecting me, as the moments pass, i feel overwhelmed with feelings… She looks to me, cracks apart every insecurity, vulnerability with efficiency…. i up-lift her being too… I can’t comprehend, everything she’s done is for me, and how it’s what i’ve needed, and previously couldn’t understand how pleasurable true love could be. too her i’m an excellent man, a kind and gentle individual… to me she’s an angel – sandy glistening spirit, the tide sweeps the beaches and her soul captures the dirty tide of my mind within her golden sandy palms. And onto the beeches is rapid rain drops of my tears needing her back.

The Deer That Had a Wild Passion

I stand among the other beasts, i call to the others, let’s move. let’s progress upwards onto this hill, we need to find a deer, a possum, anything to feed our stomachs, to provide us with strength and power… The other animals were less excited, lazier than the deer… we eventually entered the same page… We began to chase down a deer, and the deer progressed out of the premise, our quick steps were no match, we accelerated faster… But the deer was PASSIONATE about his surroundings, he understood the area much more… The next day we saw the deer. And we set our trap, we circled the deer and began to munch on his body, ripping flesh, destroying his caucus. And we learned from then on that sometimes talent beats passion.

The True Ruler.

there were sheep, wolves, pigs, and velvet ropes. The instructor, was often smiling with a large and antagonizing smile. He reeked of gin and an odour, that triggered the nostrils to cease to breath, he smelt of success, and achievement. His ego was large. His muscles tiny. he began to stumble – over the time of the games… He teased each category. made them maneuver to a beat of his own violin, his red and well strung piece of musical sadness. His tone was aggressive and be-lilting, his hands were tightening as the animals were slow at progressing through the maze. He began to get angry… annoyed at humanity.… He wanted more, he wanted better… he wanted perfection… As the days progressed the being’s would lose their individuality, their dignity, their balls. And each day, this pig, this ruler, would strengthen his games, intensify their work… All while he sat above and grinned with pleasure, his alcoholic lips, lick his lips

he believes in conformity, and relentlessly begins to achieve it – Throughout our society… this man is strong, and ever-so powerful, and he won’t stop… he cannot stop… this world is his for the taking. And each category of animal is for his eating, he chows souls for breakfast, hearts for lunch, and tears for dinner. He sings an awfully dark tune in the morning, that frightens each animal, he sings it without heart and only knows the horrid words, he only understands ruthlessness and betrayal… He pawns each animal, he maneuvers them to stay dedicated, and keep up the rhythm. he yells loudly when they step out-of-line… and he strengthens their mind with his destructive words. And these words grip the soul and bring it down to his level, he dines with the devil, he goes to the games with hitlers, and sparks up a cigarette with Stollen. Drinks his liquid with the Masons.

Alcohol

Alcohol pours into my mouth, my mouth capturing the stream with great ease. never missing my soaked mouth. Precisely, and quickly becoming intoxicated. My numbness strengthens, my thoughts cease.

My heart maintaining great rhythm. I ascend into a pleasurable state-of-mind. My emotions feel to drop heavy into my mind, creating a warmth of feelings; they magically surround my body and create an aura of happiness… My eurpohia buzz being complete – But completeness often doesn’t last, i’ll be bringing the dirty shirt i possess, for another liquified dream-state…