I’m sure people back then didn’t have calluses over their feet, since the grass was so soft.
Underneath them, the sky high voices making light turn black.
Waves to tsunamis, the base storm.
And he’s with you 110%.
Feeding every natural disaster!!
A cheer on, for the pain if you will.
Maybe our wildlife is talking,
Or I’m just going insane.
From what ever demon lives in this stupid house!!
Now, I consider myself a spiritual person,
The after life; Angels, demons, a God with a son Jesus, Lil’ Nicky,
The devil from south park.
You the know the ugge.
But I believe, if that’s what I really want to hope for as the after life,
I think there should also be real ones, we don’t know what’s happening in Heaven!!!
What if they’ve adapted our ‘party life’?
Maybe all the storms, global change, is from heaven ruining itself.
A spiritual breakdown… Morals are a core to anyone, it lives in your soul, who controls your guilt, that’s signaled to your brain for danger.
Or Bad news.
How many people have had month long colds?
Well it’s all the extra pollen because it’s making the flowers nervous!!!
Spitting out their pollen to hurry and try to pollinate them!!!
(Theory Marisha Guffey)
Are all these storms just bad luck.
But I bet you’ll all be fucked tonight.
Trying to fall asleep,
Conscious having a fight,
But you can’t weep.
You’ll miss the sick twisted truth that lies behind your eyelids.
In the realms of your dreams.
Not lies. Messages.
Perfectly fit for your knowledge, life events, strangers you’ve seen around.
Half asleep still… staring at the rain pouring out my window.
I’ve decided to join air force. But as like a secretary or something.
Why not? It’s just a job.
Besides I can’t just stay inside half puking, half sleeping,
It’s why they invented the umbrella. Thank you umbrella man!
But if those were our weapons against them!!!
I say nay!
For clothing has no protection from the cause of thunder, yay,
The lightening is a strike of electricity, yay, lighting the world for a chance to see into the night.
I don’t mind dying immediately if I got struck by it…
But something about giant booms coming from the sky.
But something about giant boobs coming from the TV.
Sounded like a better idea than the last one.
Easier to handle. I’m not a lesbian, they just have no effect sexual because I have them.
Sorry ladies. I like your boobs, they help babies stay alive!
So always appreciate them, and don’t to say you love all of it.
A quote from a friend named Sarah, yay, “Your boobs are like baby skin that’s hardly been expose to the outside world.
I bet back then, babies are just as soft as they are now…
Because the grass never callused your feet being so soft.
The rain helps with that…
Maybe this is a defense to grow plants over everything. Getting the dirt to spread everywhere.
Drown us out!
But it’s the year blah blah blah in Marisha World,
And she’s sad. And angry, and depressed.
Two seconds in this disguised hell hole she calls house with a family.
I called a cage hiding an insane asylum.
I got into a lot of trouble…
It makes me feel nothing.
A cop once asked me why I was so calm around him,
I wanted to say I just didn’t care he was here. I wanna eat my sandwich.
Or spaghetti whatever!!
I just said it was because I was too polite to be hit by him, and that’s the only thing that could makes me scared.
Plus, I just started using drugs really young.
Asking mommy for extra grape medicine when I was like 9.
I was sick all the time though, at least I felt like it.
She never noticed and that could have killed me.
Strangers are in the house, breathe because they can’t hurt you.
Their too high to even mutter a word to you,
Or notice the small feet flickering the floor on their toes.
That’s why I had the bravery to go out and check to make sure they weren’t dangerous looking.
They all looked dangers looking,
But the more dangerous ones had a crazy look in their eye,
I could recognize it since I’ve been staring at my mother since I was born.
Oooooooo that’s not a burn, that’s true.
It’s freaked me out since forever.
I hate talking to her. I hate the way she talks.
I hate the way I answer to her, I hate the way she answers me.
I hate the way she let strangers, in the house. I hate the way she puts me in danger.
She doesn’t do all that as a mother, she does that as a person.
She’s a terrible person, but a great mom, and a crazy bitch.
But that’s what makes her.
And if I don’t want to like her, I’m not going to.
I can’t forgive anyone who is a mother that did that to their kids,
Says terrible things to their kids, like really bad.
Actual abuse and such and blah.
I don’t care about what’s happened, I get pissed off at the fact you haven’t learned a damn thing.
So this is my goodbye letter to my mom.
I would say I cut the umbilical cord but you did that when I was born.
So I’ll say, “Fartheewell bitches! I’m out”
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