jjay

I know a man who was born with his heart on the outside, every mans worst fear. He also had heavy hands. He couldn't touch his lovers face or hold a baby. He would never desert them but he was worried he would hurt them, maybe. Mad at the world his face turned hot pink. The best he could do was just try not to think but he was too bothered so he would only try rarely. He read the last page of every book in the library. He lacked the charisma of a true revolutionary. Crime fighter would try to write but kept breaking his typewriter. He would preach his manifesto like a militant radical was diligent but his greatest mistakes were grammatical. If he only spent more time rehearsing, preparing there wouldn't have to be so much cursing and swearing. Eyes on fire, his volume was blistering. No one had taught him about the power of whispering. He is dynamite, blows kisses, eats dirt, mouth of a volcano, he is a t-shirt. He stands on stilts but doesn't stand for funny stuff. Ask me he just hasn't been around the sun enough. He paints self-portraits with a roller, only eats corn, and than tries to sell his own sole on the street corner. He always remembers everyones numbers and sometimes cries into his own cumbersome hands

buck 65

I can relate.

EDIT:
i added pics. I added pics..nananananah!