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“finger-prints and snow-flakes”

7 Years Ago

“finger-prints and snow-flakes”

Broken cast ah revealed mask-ed this before boos and a hiss, the adore of ah die-a tribe the pleasure of kissing lips, treasures of sighs “oh my “ pass as mindless gibberish. Before you the old man collapses and dies.Mummified to a non-pitch casket put back from which he came upon the dusty shelve-life is but, a delicacy that the devil sips like a divine wine of a past love of mine. Simple-less the symbolism of humanity as a fingerprint; never alike yet identifying with individualism -like the thieving of air from which the same prior is said of a snowflake to carry on through that other prior thing-that in darker seasons chills down to the bone; frozen-in-time that no longer holds a footprint in the snow but, shaped into form it becomes a force that was warned to storm upon the very thing it originated by..by chance? ... no. I guess... I myself could be many things if not a hypocrite to my warped ideology of a alienist self-centering deviant. Who’s only dream is of utopia like successes-meanwhile like a child  I lay in a pre-made bed of awaiting death catching last breaths only to caress the life out of them before letting them go. While you wallow your bleeding ears on hear my pissing words that you’ve asked to be said. I recite them with no ill intent behind them yet, rather nothing behind to find at all-void of anything; nothing-ness. This reminds you how lost I really am but, no need to search as you see your-self present with the danger and me. Four seasons we were always there side by side; die-a tribe it’s just neither of us really cared to acknowledge this fact or anything at all. In looking inward or opposite it’s not strange that we are strangers? No not at all.  For see as becomes the crashing sea, we live in a world where we created a desire to be the same but, recede… we were created different not one the same; even my seed end as a different read. The creator is not us it’s unknown in its intent an attempt. Take off your mask; in fact the only facts that are known;  is we are broken casts and we… yes! you, me, and she are known as symbolism of individualism in the form of finger-prints and snow-flakes.               
                       The unknown myth-of an unknown sith

my English is broken like my heart-art is an excuse I use to hang into the noose-of your b*****d rules and kick the chair from -it depriving it- of air. I watch it…then get bored. I wish it would die already! Then walk away UN-apologetic cause i just don’t f*****g care! ..see i left them last two I’s lower case; point?...wait…never mind I think you missed it?              LATE.