I’m renderin’ medicine.
Questionin’ if it’s better than this hook; this book it’s embedded in. I’m tender and sensitive but I’ve mixed potions of emotions like sedatives. Let it give. Walk asleep like the weak, yes; it’s better than finding hobbies in robberies and amphetamines. Dodgin’ bobbies and future hotties that see within. Ear muffs full of cuss words that seal the din. This yellow brick road never ends. The end of this rainbow is bent way low to 82nd.
Gifted misfits dance along this heightened tightrope. Every chance I have to yelp I spit it out and I choke. Every pen is a needle and you tighten this tourniquet and I hold still while you poke. Its ok, you say. It's ok, it's how we cope. You are one of us now so bury your shame and corrode.
But I reached into my pocket and I found this glow. Wrapped up and braided into bondage rope. And I built myself some wings to fly over this moat. I'm over this show. Drop the mic and mumble it slow. "I thought better of me". Yes it's time to go.
I threw all my armor into the grandest of canyons. It blew to the corners of that vast expansion. So now I float in this moat of my unfathomable mansion. Noticing I took with me not a single companion. And I’m dancin’. Reverting back to the roots of my passions. Not quarrelsome but I’m sensitive to every interaction. Testing the grounds of my foundations of friends, family and familiar faces.
Don’t brandish bullsugar with me cause I’m susceptible. Surveying more closely a situation that’s acceptable. Keeping company with folks that fill their vessels with lessons and choose to flourish with effervescence, blessing you with their presence. I guess at East West you can expect this. And I’m aware that I’m not prepared to acknowledge a lot of your questions.