bring me things to break myself upon till

if i stub my fucking toe it’s their fault so say i, and who could argue? you almost

first fruits hardly a handful, the garden

does a king come ready– made, or doesn’t he emerge from a prince once a frog, and aren’t you

simply knowing you’re in a maze doesn’t get you out, but the fact is the foundation

i could not conceive of such beauty, it had to hit me like it has. nothing

liking to say things, all kinds of things, mostly about the way things seem

they really do know how to shove something up your ass like

got the sex drive of 15 young bulls, but the women are all scared.

something you need makes you its bitch, yes even as it isn’t coming, no when love stands you up & all the more sweet