who am i kidding, you are just like the rest, only clothed in more opulent wear. my folks could hear your golden voice from a mile away, i listened to the melody, but was weary of the snores.

but they don't call them homegirls for nothing, maybe not in the same level as i am feeling it now. could they not appreciate feeling instead of niceties, i am more into that scene you see.

you made a mistake, time to admit it to yourself. time to befriend those that you did not want to lose in the first place. those people that rhyme those i abhor-bhor-hor. why do i let these things happen to me.

you see purple i see red. i see class cubicles you see cartesian planes. actually, i confess thinking about it, you are like abhors. only you are a stallion, a horse of greater magnitude and depth. but you are on the same cartesian plane.

maybe hanging out with multiples of negatives can bring me to bliss. but you and my historical memory will never ever exchange glances.

i remember the day i said that i was digging my own grave. i remember it quite distinctly.