my tongue longs to click
in my mouth
pushing on the roof
of my mouth
thrusting itself
between my lips
drowning in spit
producing sounds
that
somehow convey emotion
sounds that reach your ears
boil your brain juice
and find a cozy little spot in your heart
About Me
- mrs. bonaparte
- Revolution is a word stuck to the roof of my mouth like stale bread in the hands of mobs of angry women in France during 1789. I respect all life. I believe violence is never the answer, but I will smash heads open for freedom and liberation from oppression. I live and think in the 19th century; rap keeps me stuck in the 21st.
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1 comments:
your shit is weak. you speak nonsense.
haha revolution? you?? pleaseeeee
haha go on back to smoking meth and shut the fuck up.
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