Slowly Jamming

Roses. I feel them brushing against my skin. Sending goosebumps down my spine. Give me a high. That I want to feel again. But she left and went to work. When she get home I'm fixing to get up under her skirt. Or just lay up or whatever. We both took our shots and made them now we just lay up on each other. I'm playing the part of. The start of something new and not just being the part of. Stranger things we've done didn't need too much of a start up. They saw a girl with a big butt and a smile. I saw class with an ass, let me break it down. You know that one girl out of the hoes in ya class? That will see them other bitches talk about niggas and laugh. Cause she on her phone looking at other shit that will never fuck up her path. She give them a sour look. They brewing up some gossip when them bitches don't know how to cook. When she walk around their man it got em shook. But she don't want them dogs. I don't want them hoes either. I'm blindly looking through the fog. Hopeless. Romantic focus is better than groping. Sike I'd rather grope and find her than be a romantic hopeless. Backwards. Is the way they live. Evil and bedeviled always seemed to be the choice they picked. I ain't the nicest nor the righteous but I praise the righteousness. Maybe praying and keeping the faith got us the bond of glue, superstik. It's nonfiction the mission is to believe in something real coming from the boy who grow up not to believe in superstition. That was based on the fact that love in the is world is the worst illusion. Contradicting. The music to my ears as she speak the words "I love you" and actually mean it. Suiting. Me up for her special love we got through it without no confusion.