segunda-feira, 10 de novembro de 2025

reimagine: a prayer serves little to the blind and the deaf, let it be for it must be (so-so)

an uplifting connection

a bridge, suspended between naivity and sunset

postmodern infectious disease disguised as a champion of distress

a fever chewing at the bones of torment, love is in the air (and it's HOT EVER SO HOT)

group up, team up, round 'dem up

after the hallow halls of empty embers, November gives chase

and what awaits we shan't acknowledge just yet.

doctor it hurts, me... deeply

when I get my hand stuck in the lever of the vault where

I got stuck on a blender 'sess' bleeding key, raw throat

never fuck crazy least their teeth toss your love in trash

baby what you don't understand is

I already saw what despair looks like and let me tell you

the sight of that man jumping in front of that moving train

shook me stupid, to a transfix: baby sister I once believed family meant we would die for one another

but now I realize you wouldn't do the same

and that's just not sitting right with me.

groove is to keep your eyes open and on the mind

of potential blindspots

in defiance we serve not as idols but vessels

of the infinite wisdom spinning deeper despite the callout

to push against in vain resistance

my sinful confession is to implode in greater sloth

If I say I regret it that's a poor man's rendition 

I surrender (unwillingly) for the clouds cannot placate

my greater fallen state of mind is not betraying heaven

but my own damm self:

"they told me if I love God

they told me I would find you...there!" 

a saying cannot maim, it serves poorly as a weapon construct as such

a soothing hand can guide and smoother given enough pressure

a gentle woman can detonate your entire fucking life (believe me I have seen it)

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