air fryer, adore
Air fried egg to boiled egg
No water added
air fryer, adore
Air fried egg to boiled egg
No water added
An Angel whispered
Visual rays awake
Light falls out my mouth
Heard leaves and winds sing
Lactic acidic strains
A walk in the park
Made Fried crustables
Cinnamon and sugar sweet
Next fried butter cakes
cinema featured on a five by seven screen
how do you rid of remnant memories
how can i occupy that space
the space that fills my mind
my mind up of remnant memories
remnant memories that still remain
the ones i can’t seem to erase
the ones remaining in my mind
how do you rid of remnant memories
the ones inside my head
to replace with bigger pictures
while im waiting
to clear up that space
ill be occupying the time
with remnants of memories
strange women use propaganda
gentlemen use proper gander…
he’d heard reckless things bout sista, the “oooooh i can’t stand hu’h!”
his conditioned heart felt the fire in those words and how it made sista quiver
he takes off his tailored black coat, hands it right to her….
and sista turned to gold…
There’s a storm cloud floating above me, its thunder is shaking the place
Fahrenheit at 108
I admired two birds standing still as the wind blew
while witnessing lightning strike
they stand firm as the thunder swoon
the thunder swoons
One facing left and the other right nesting in the blended CG tunes
The cloud breaks, rain falls, and they fly away
There is nothing like the feeling of, the feeling of.
The feeling of the tightest hug
and a box of love with meanings in it.
You know the ones with the dreams in it?
Yes those, The feelings of…
It was the feeling of my lightest dream.
Glistening diamonds
the sweetest buttercream
the feeling of the best of the feeling, of.
For some, the dream is elusive. Therefore, they do not choose to believe in it.
pro·gres·sion
Definition: the process of developing or moving gradually towards a more advanced state.
So…
I.
I am.
I am a.
I am a work.
I am a work in progress.
I admit, i’m aware of this.
No matter how much I try to run away from it, it pulls me back in.
the work.
the progress.
It churns my stomach. Makes my heart ache. Produces the sweat above my lip. Insists on fogging the lens of my glasses.
The progress.
The work that I am.
The work that I was
no longer am i leaning on my self absorbed mastery
only depending on the Lord to instill in me understanding.
Understanding.
Understanding.
Understanding
the work that is made in me.
The new work that is made in me.
I heard pleading in streets. “Simplicity! Change from the simple things!”
…it’s time to progress