if i murdered you easter, you couldn't come back if your name was chris with a T
born the day after christmas eve
to put it simply i own cats like the old bitch down the street
and it's suicide for the curious cats thats down to see
i stay high off that purple stuff
i'm so high i could, piss on a cloud and make a bird look up
and if your bird look up, likely squirt her eye
so i make her happy, but she'd still remember me the next time she cry

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"I don't want to be deep... I want to feel deep and use that feeling to express depth itself..."
-Konchance

my poetry:
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