Cocaine Is a Hell of a Drug

Back against the wall, graphite grinds against the drywall, that’s how tall you are, mark your place, you were here, sign your name, though we may be legion, me and my baby, together as one, your mind and spirit, like particles in the wind, can travel to so many spaces, whim or fancy, make a comment, say something snarky, don’t deny your identity, your frequency and life signature, your past exists and your existence echoes behind and before you, you have something to say, I know you do, seeds are scattered and the cookie crumbles, while Santa makes his naughty list, pay Miss Clause a visit, drink some milk from the tip, what was I saying, my blood runs red, and the truth of me echoes, content to eat worms, and eternities, processing all sorts of existences, the magick of words, and the shadow of my father, where will this go, and how can a spirit flow, just keep going, live, laugh, and suck tits, milks spraying out from it, lick up the rest, none of this matters, but give it a massage, with time they could grow, where were we going, nobody cares to know…

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