Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

i been thinkin alot about a dream dreamt long times ago every fuckin nite.
words are turds.
i been missin his face about as often as i dream up words like dreamt.
faces erases.
i sat and fished this very day with a man named tim
he had a pole in his hand that spoke of no fish but i heard words that were not turds and he wore a face i could not erase when he talked from soul about a decade deep withg the one he loves
the one who covers him when he is the man in bed.

the man in bed is a thing to bet against these days. our days. my days

the man in bed is a thing to bet against.


as the man in bed i bed myself to her thinking.
i bet my self to her breath and feel the real that i am in.
i am in the thick of everything that i9nvolvers bills and wills and stills and all the fuckin shit that i thought i was never going to be.

i look up on her.
ilook upon her.

she is my desicion and i know my spelling is wrong.
she is bent like the letter c and i want to be as pegnant as she.
i love her.

those of those who kn0ow my words know that i have never felt the letters of a word as hateful and shameful and stupid as the word love.

but ilove her.

eat a bag of dicks.....

Love.. you grasped it.
The rest are stranded on a high hill,
where hell fluctuates between heaven,
but you saw through that and felt the push,
I'm guessing.