Most of my inspiration is from sadness...When I write, I create a release..I have no intention of causing depression from my poetry, if anything I appreciate the ability to express it.

Saturday, July 7, 2012

I'm bothered by the way I walk around,
I seem to wander off when they converse,
The frustration is too easy, the prowlers won't rest,
I roll my eyes and leave, yet they latch on to me like a leech.
The more I let myself go, the more they come,
Line up my imprisoned counter.
I'm not an object, not a prize.
I don't care what you drive.
Go fuck yourself and die.
Leave me alone.

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