I need to write what I’m about to write so you can read between my lines seen in-between the sheets laid upon my soul protecting me from reacting in a way you may not like however
from by you or from me now what is the score to this game that I can’t recall the name of which you have started and for you I gave thanks to god I’m brave and by him or her or it or what have you I’ve been saved from an illusion of your judged existence that is my life not yours and not anything that can be defined as anything other than pure but please and thank you I mind all my Ps n Qs and I don’t have to but I will out of pity excuse you so I can make sense of this conditioned belief of solace repentance as I’m currently entertained by myself completing this run-on sentence that in the end you won’t comprehend for no matter of fact reason than you are dumb or dumber I don’t know whatever cuz everything I’m writing you already and then and then the end

I Could Be


I could be the one
you settle down
and comforts you
when you want to frown
I could be the one
that gives my all
when your world is goin under
and you feel just three feet tall
I could be the one
that you hold tight
in the middle of a starry night
and I will always be
the one
who knows that in life
you reap just what you have sewed
and I will still be there
holding your feet to the ground
never letting go