spent dead prez on dead roses

12 am when the church door closes

i ain't a christian, but i do sing

when it hurts, i do sing


"carry me to better places

where my break is"

it's only been a minute since it kicked in

been a minute since we linked up,

and i'd love to hear your voice, 


but i'm

too twisted, a lil ridiculous

wrote a verse in a note and sent it

wrote myself into pieces,

i fell so low that i couldn't reach it


and a preacher couldn't preach this

heart so golden

heart's been stolen


it doesn't hurt like it used to

but the pain is fresh,

and the blood is new


and the shadow is you

we could climb to the treetops,

break when the bending stops


i want 

white papers in my white hearse

burn blunts to burn out my curse


the closest thing to a eulogy

would be a public reading of my poetry

yeah, that's right, i'll write about me









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© 2018 by D. Inez "Z" Bell