FAKED

This paper holds my ink and although it bleeds Its the most solid thing I've ever seen it's a damn shame that i wait so long to taste my dreams, I kept being dragged down by a sack of rocks and the fucking chase to lose a self between sheets of written notes telling tales of that unconditional, the type that makes your legs shake, it hurts that heart of yours lose sync with your essence and you're being becomes your ways patterns on and on we go too stupid to ever let go too dumb to be stuck and too broke to know it and if my clothes don't know my Grammer sure the fuck does