Yr gossip mouth gets me off

pawn shop heart, trade me up

I Don't Know About You But..

A journalist would jump four stories for this sort of thing.
photograph the crash landing.
we will prove, you can bake your cake and eat it to.
roll around with me
in red, yellow, green and blue pasture’s.
back to basic’s.
just to sate your sweet tooth for disaster.

we will all be revealed for who we are eventually.
sooner rather than later.

shout out to myboldandbeautifuldeadend.tsomethingr.com
when you've got you're story, run along kid

aboutme.

a firm believer in my pick pocket fingertip politics
which usually end in her best dress ripped
rather than any form of real progress,
over the years I've guttered my dreams
pulled away the hair from the city i threw up in
ambition has set shop in my chest
selling out every step i take
so long live mother's favorite mess.
XO