It's here, a bit of it, tasted it my temples and fingers not yet deft, a shadow so sweet my rembrance of sugary muse beats at my heart, like a diabetic heart attack, gummy elves thumpin and bumpin beats on my soul, Damn keys stifle me, prefer a rifle stocked w spray paint, ready to blast color. Enough to make me shudder at things to come, fire like rum, drank by thieves beggars and sluts, an addicts ablution, a shower of unfettered scenes obscene uncouth like unhindered youth. It's truth I spew, my pen my pew, an anarchist heart adorns my wrist, chaos leashed by love, faith with eyes closed and arms outstretched, a glock in hand held by the barrel, we shake with another's fingers on our triggers, never safety locked, but trust like steel let's our new world persevere.

A scorpion tattoo pokes through my forearm, pincers snip, cut neatly, it's shadow living sinew. It crawls to my shoulder, to my neck, and stings deep, jealous of wasted time, of time unspent, the willfully unwise cannot rise, this he knows and so he stings with deliberate tailwhips. The nectar imparted spreads an aura out to my shoulders, irregular, but everflowing, now it's growing' cold too, it bites when I tense, and thus impede it's course. My heart goes mute at the thought that it's gone, that my nectar has faded and it's all of my fault. an ache crowns my head, and weighs on my eyes, i keep em shut and picture a mirror, involuntarily, bifocals look back and vanish as i get a feelin, a mittened paw rests on my right pinky, and inspires a thought quite peculiar. I'll let it my way, even if it rolls across the keys, uncoordinated melodies.

It dipset, tapered off at the end. but it was fun to play in faint shadows.