LatinosUSA

We were wet with it inside the foggy morning. I cut a piece out and pocketed it to touch in moments of despair. In the empire the interest rates climbed up from a base and out of reach. Left us to die in our phones. I lost my charge and dropped it. I began to cry a little. Then reached in the patched pocket of my black denim jeans and it was still there. Our first kiss and how it made me real. I wondered if you were alive and what were you doing at this very instant? Probably tooling around some garage. I decided to ascend from littered streets and subway beats. I know you are thinking of me thinking of you. I just know it! Creatives, artists or whatnot, we are commonly thought of as fools — what the hell are you doing with your life? Give it up — They like to tell us how to live when we cannot make a living. It used to break my whole heart. I broke my tether by a wild pack of neurotransmitters and pulled out of the neocortex ravine and into strange euphoria. I dragged some sycamore limbs into my apartment. My cat came home and opened his mouth for me. Now I have a bird. There was no money but there was a guitar to coax this song off my lips. Why would I care what anyone thinks? There’s not enough time. I have got to get this beauty down! The changing light provides a million inspirations.