Get out of that you use to be in dripping and leaching off even after not far from with out

I get it

I get it

I get it.

I can not change the memory that gathers like grandmama arms the tenderness of you to replace that unused bygone empty space that was well layered in brain and cognitive sinew to protect what would hook you in to whirlpooling brine and substance useless for lungs but trying to drown you till you got gills and pain is the eyes you use to see the sky as blue you thought you were in. But this sky you can’t breathe. But thats the making of the memory an; inexplicable metphoremotion in an epigenetic carnival of what used to be fleas but now fresh in vu ja de the head is in closed by the lions roar working out and round the wedges if bone that be the seperation of head and decapitated body but you cope and the Earth that aint a kitten opens and closes your brain with the words that say I ain’t ever goin be this bitch no more, cause its a mUtha Fuckin zero sum baby at zero dark thirty and my body and empire is the mark that be here when bought to aint be but gone in can’t see.

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