in•dex to life this thirtieth of august

i am your social experiment, your fall guy, your crash test dummy. i pray, you keep me grounded and humble, even when i know the possibility presents itself, slapping. even when transgression can be as easy as breathing, and that i can strike the hardest with words, and poetry, and music.
a lovely little dagger.

i love you with all that i have. blood, sweat, and tears. not to mention the dead brain cells that i took from your bludgeoning.

No comments:

Post a Comment