Honesty IV

Honesty Part IV

Back again, and again, and again I'm back. Well not me but the creativity I lack. Remember. Anyway, its almost September. I'm almost done. I’ll turn Twenty one. Day your supposed to have fun. Supposed to but won’t do. . I told you, that I'm almost done. Don’t want none other then to be with someone. Visit from a friend today. He popped in. He had with him something I gave him. Myself. Cause lately its been all mine. Haven’t spent the energy or time getting close to someone outside my own mind. But I'm trying. While I'm dying. Like everyone else living at this very second. Old or young, they just won’t make it. The doctors prognosis is you’ve got the rest of your life. Be it an hour or five. Or five times nine years. No telling when your loved ones will shed their selfish tears. Having to face the fact that your death is simply just a reminder of their own mortality. So they weep, drop to their knees, “Thank God he went before me.” Ok, so maybe not in so many words. But the general feeling is always concern for who’s life is next to turn. End up in an urn. Or under the earth. And for what it’s worth, at least you got to leave. I'm still here. Everyday, wake up and I'm here. Every night writing about being here. Death is not something I fear. It’s very clear to me that’s just naturally a part of history, either to be taken seriously or viewed half heartedly. It will always be. Always be. Always before. Always believe. Always beneath. Always seeming to disagree with my life. Like a knife cutting stones. Can you trust someone with an obsession for ass and bones? Like two tones. Dark and darker. And I don’t know which ones darker, ass or bones. Either way, tired of feeling alone as my thoughts clutter my brain like an uninhibited drone. So I’ll do what I do every time I want to feel more simple. Think about some ass then go draw some bones.