I dont want
To say
I miss you.
I'd rather stay
Here with you.
I spent the last 30 minutes scanning my timeline.
I found recipies and reasons to make fortunes.
As I drafted this entry, my desire to be The Mr. Marcus of traditional romance accelerated.
I dont want
To say
I miss you.
I'd rather stay
Here with you.
I now want a mansion with a beautiful pool.
To have a wife would mean to cook recipies found on the same timeline she's seen on and cook them as she lays on a pool float.
Serve her.
I'd probably have rare 9th joints playing through the Bose house system.
I'd be her personal pool boy.
I dont want
To say
I miss you.
I'd rather stay
Here with you.
As this 9th beat gets more diabolical by the second, I remind the celestial beauties of Thriller.
Ive been masking my beast.
Hiding my preoccupation with death.
For your smile.
For your smiles.
I am who you need protection from.
I'm some Gothic ass kid.
On some Gothic ass shit.
The laboratory of consistency is open again.
Should I create a species to fall in love with?
Can a creation comprehend love from its creator?
How can I make sure they dont go rogue?
How can I not power trip?
I dont want
To say
I miss you.
I'd rather stay
Here with you.
Sadly, it's
Magic, Miss.
I gotta care about your happiness.
Magic is
My happiness.
I share it with you for your happiness.
Your desire is the flesh of purity.
The meat of nature.
I provide my whole self for you.
I need more.
For you.
My happiness is magic.
Music is my fleshbloodandbone.
I starve.
I dont want
To say
I miss you.
I'd rather stay
Here with you.
My stomach acid melts the butterflies.
The cottonballs go, too.
I starve.
By the time you love me, I wouldve returned to my cocoon.
You will know when I do.
And these words will never ring truer.
I dont want
To say
I miss you.
I'd rather stay
Here with you.
This post is produced by 9th Wonder.
=The Immortal=
