whatiwas

//somos los

somos los perdidos,

siempre viviendo sin vision//

i used to call this sought, but it's the seeking that made it pained and painted, it's been erratic like this for weeks now, you come in frames between dilations and you're always more coloful than i remember, i was told everyone looks better in red light and--(say it with me, now)--who am i to defy that? i used to call this sought, but it's the seeking, i'm bought and pawned and i like the smell on my fingers, it's false but the pretense i could grow to miss,

HA, HA-HA-HA, AND WE DO IT LIKE THIS

i've felt the pinpricks in my sleep, don't lie, i know i gave it all to me, i've never been so indirect and you can spot me a mile away, you know me as a half-truth; it's always been my gimmick, it'll be a punchline until the day i die, mysterymysterymysteryblack-still-a-boy with the courage only to breathe, i used to call this sought, but it's the seeking that always attracted me, not the pursuit but the search, the reasoning process that makes the right parts tickle and tingle and occasionally burn to remind me i still exist,

HA, HA-HA-HA, AND WE DO IT LIKE THIS

HA, HA-HA-HA, AND WE DO IT LIKE THIS

i used to check grammar to keep my spittle on a steady stream, but then niggas started calling it "flow" and i couldn't swear by it, i couldn't wear in it, you know? its response wasn't as clean as water and air, (i can't stack anything on that, i guess i'm still), they wanted to call it "art" and i couldn't allow it to be so important, this isn't anything other than the aftershocks of days drunk in haze and bliss,

HA, HA-HA-HA, AND WE DO IT LIKE THIS

HA, HA-HA-HA, AND WE DO IT LIKE THIS

HA, HA-HA-HA, AND WE DO IT LIKE THIS