these days pass by quickly
some what like a blur
i try to keep up with them
feels like im walking along
an unsteady tight rope
attempting to balance
slipping, slowly
slowly
f
a
l
l
i
n
g
not an option.
when I write I hear beats in my head, I write to the rhythm of my internal drum. sweet like sugar, and raw to the bone. ;RAWSUGAR;
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