Its written Its crumpled up next to

The books on this floor,

Sweet things, nice and sugary

Are nothing but forgery, Early departure, Lord, I need Your signature,

DVD of blood and guts of The ruts in this mind– Of how much I love You

My King, but how little do I sing..how little…how small This love is..how connection is Not my addiction,

Spring fever, Tighter clothes, More of a lie exposed, Once a year, couch family For me, waiting up for me,

Dark nights with a 2 dimensional Wall, ceiling fans just got you cool For a little bit, It was heat daily, Your presence not Hazy,

now I am older, Now this blog grows older, Now I should have a wise man’s Care, a wise man’s fear– To never stop is me,

Even if Easter is everyone’s Second chance,

I will not back Down—skin and tan lines,

Exposed is the innocence that They never had,

Raised in fear, Raised in hesitation,

Sky exits for these Regrets,

A never ending mercy Is all I need,

Scattered scribes of These diatribes and

The decadence that goes With it– To long maybe are these words, But I listen for mercy