the manner in which i live,fuck or write is beyond the superficial glare of aging hipsters in LA.
i breath with the sun,moon and ink that come from my pen and spills to the paper.
no one knows me or my ideas of gratitude and brilliance.
i gravitate toward the deaf,blind and sullen creatures.
my higher power has been a slave to the grind and has not been seen in my town.
forever seems shorter as i sleep to dream of fantasies untold or rituals unspoken.
night life is habitual as is carnage.
sacred ruins and forbidden love are the destiny i pray to.
forgive me satan for i have dreamed.
lost and loathing i find a friend in my semi cautious mind.
lasting features and soft baby skin linger through space and religion.
i fear not who iam.