freestyle... ish

... critical criticism cracking lyricism re-inacting fictional rapping/
inhibitualism testing the flow's friction through a multi-colored prism/
flippin' rhythm among visual visions after vision splittin' mental prisons/
liftin' crimson ink outta the thing we think when digital thoughts sink/
deep and deeper into the deeply driven depth of trying to be dope/
writing the thing we write till its wrote and dreams break till broke/
and the pen spoke and awoke screams of ill provoked/
sliding down the hill of skill on a never ending slope/
with rhymes fusing the useless un-usable clueless lines that we fuse/
to leave topics beaten, battered, leakin' waste matter showing its abused/
shattered objects preachin' the flow that's slowing/
and owning your soul poking holes digging deep for seeds and growing/
making drugs the love that you're craving when you're lonely/
lathing the days passing till your grave's dug for all your homies/
homeless, disconnected phone, your brain cells are fried, no free roaming/
wrist slitting prone too alone to know self recognition/
when at home hearing voices off the record spitting/
static scratches the dome pondering the meaning of what's meant to be/
it attaches actions acting happy rapping crappy handing jack my rhyme stickers/
out to people biting, still wondering why you're pondering the meaning of what's meant to be/
honoring life like it was the un-gettable get to see/
in a jar with wishes watching with eyes wanting to be/
that person hurting suffering all that life's supposed to bring/
singing the song sung when your head's hung low/
with no response to any one when on acid that shouldn't know/
rapid habits making life's living addicts adding additives smashing laxatives/
cuz shit in this world isn't needed, no one will have it/

i'm done... i don't know how long this took me, but itz a freestyle... so blah


signed,
~madd