many fine books have been written in prison
to be a part of something is to be accepted into it and society accepts nothing
or at least not all the parts of a whole
anyone it does accept is hiding something
the first crime i can recall was murder
unless you count riding i bike without a helmet across a highway a crime
i crushed a mouse with my head
dunno how old i was but I’d just learned to tie my shoe
the mouse had it coming for tickling my hear 3×. the shoe thought it could outsmart me
Shiny Sharp things dance on fair skin, Promising to lure out the deamons within.
Show me perfection and all that I lack, Twist up my mind like the blade in my back.
..I’m still here.