Gifted with burdens cursed with ambition doomed to make money to capture beauty while losing my hair and remembering the meaning of life and forgetting my wallet I want to let go but it's in my hand and I don't want to be vague I don't want to be angry but I don't like this and that getting in the way of the sublimity of everything and all advice between torches and cold baths herbals and pill cases fasted or indulged I don't wanna market myself I want to be discovered I don't want to explain my self I want to be asked questions and then follow up questions I want to interrupt your next question and then you apologize to me and tell me to go on I, reluctantly change sides on rejection I want to spiral upwards and god and I can believe in each other and I want to be redeemed renewed and adjusted I don't want to be afraid that when you find my poems that you will read them I say I want more and still I am grateful no apologies for just being me I bury the sword into the nervous mirror but truly, I do like you I don't like when that's corrupted by some kind of rift -- Judgements, differences something laid out here but I know if I want you to like me I must show you how it's done.