CRACKHOUSE WOMAN

Sitting on the floor,
Staring at the door,
Always wanting more,
Crackhouse whore,
Just wanting to explore,
Frying the brain core,
At the neighborhood store,
Is what it's for,
The feeling she gets,
When there she sits,
Involuntarily she spits,

No longer sitting,
Now she's laying,
Her head is spinning,
She tried quitting,
When she was sitting,
And was thinking,
Of her being,
Without the drug,
Laying on the rug,
Curled up in puke,
Goddess of duke,
She has a love,
That she shove,
Into the glass dream,
Never-mind-self-esteem,
Let her do her ream,
Soon she'll die,
Or get really high,
Rise above the sky,
Could be you and I...

Wind

The wind blew against me,
Like the ocean on a beach,
Thrill the same,
Calm, and peaceful,
Everyday, never feel the same,
Then the wind pushes you,
To believe in nature,
Or in fate,
Maybe it's not real, the feeling I get,
The feeling I get is without words,
For it is nature calling to me again,
To get my shit together,
Or see my fate,
Like I'm nothing,
Like the ocean & the wind,
The words I live by.......
Are gone in a seashell tornado,
The nastiest girl, who takes my soul,
I am a lonely, jellyfish in the sky,
Until I Die.....