Pollen on my lips,

I love to kiss you;

Missing the elliptical at Equinox

A full eclipse

And I've never known anything to smell to sweet as this,

Just naturally

I'd loved to be loved

But I'm just getting famous

I guess that's the trade, then

A sacrifice, as if I'd not already lost my life,

—Or slit my wrists

Intermittent 5th dimension

Tim, or what they used to call him…

But he can't remember.

This is major Tom,

Another psalm

Or poem,

From Ms. Gypsy

Spinning into mixes,

Drifting into spiderwebs as a reminder

She would write for The Times,

Like the power, or a webinar

She borrowed the guitar.

Which then, became a gift

So she dismissed him—the minister.

Or who administers the medicine

Of the administration

Menustration , under stress of course

Or as she keeps on fasting

For Last Earth

Seeing things?

Certainly!

I've been fasting, and under the influence of Dillon Francis

God Dammit Hanzel

Did you have to

Hold her hand

And have the other one

Covered in Kandi

On that album cover?!

I can't stand it

Whatever the master plan is

Give me the schematics, quick

So I can land a man to match with

That holds a candle

To that piñata

Maybe I should shapeshift into Taylor Swift

So I can get some dick in

The right complexion…

Is that too explicit?

Or maybe I should just stick to Skrillex

The first on my wishlist—

Until Kayla Lauren

(Or the other ones—

And there's a lot of em;

The rabbit's always on the run)

Hey Allison

Or Alex—

Yeah, that's it

I'm still an insomniac

Just trying to forget that I'm black

And only mildly attractive

With a New New York accent

And sudden onset passive aggression

From the stress and pressure of synethesia

And mastering my tracks

Without another expensive subscription

And another one

Here comes another one

The sun just spins in circles and whistles

This is the worst I've ever written with indifference

‘Fear nothing'

On, the fire burns

And nothing more she ever feared

It only gets better from here

It only get better from here

It only gets better from here

Still, my love burns

Like a smouldering flame

Here, a star was born from the ashes,

Destined for fame

‘Avarita,'

She called, from the caverns of lust—

The curse has been broken

Come dawn, from the dusk

So much for purpose—

Gone was the suffering;

Sending smoke signals to dieties

Laying beneath all the names,

The labels so sacred

Such secrets and fables,

The table of

L E G E N D S

All worlds collide in collisions of conciousness, space, and time as we travel the ever-infinite multidimensions of existence as we know it…

(Or—Don't.)

Rules of Time Travel:

Don't