sharpie poet/bastard

o cosmic fool

I trod on my words and abandoned them in my wake, though no one shall see them I rue their absence. They are on the trees, but when leaves fall, who shall pick them up? they will float to the bottom of the river, never to be dredged up. But i was selfish to keep them, they must find their way, I pity he who finds the word God. o how I miss my words.

o sage of depravity, guide them to those who need them more than I. Erudition eroticism. perversion aversion I am the vandal with a sharpie in her pocket. I smoke and the crime leaves my body as I exhale. I am the crime, ethereal now. I kiss the breath of others, and disintegrate into ash.

la lala, sing to my strumming, for I cannot for I have left my empty shell behind,as she breathes some form of non-sin, some non-life. la lala la lala. catharsis is one word I did not leave, nor did I leave anger, but I left sorrow, and creation, and destruction, and love. i wrote in a language that means nothing anymore.