L-E-T-T-E-R-S

Lying is not my strong suit.

English is what ur tongue mangles it 2 b; leave ur silence on th' doorstep 'nd create.

Taste the sattire in your vocabulary and spit the hard muddy seeds of thought still stuck between your teeth.

Take a moment to reflect.

Enameled words are not the only typeface you're used to, but script is too elegant for your simple speech.

Rack the last dregs of imagination littering the dumpster with the gun strapped to its side, and let loose the string of beads you've been keeping from me.

Saying is sometimes more than what you've been doing.



*********************



Lying is not my strong suit.

Everything u say is 'n innocent attack on my moral'ty, 'nd th' silent slaughter of my puzzle-piece fing'rs interlock'd wit th' kind of glue ur only allow'd 2 salivate.

Tell me the truth.

Tell me that you only respect my simplicities because I bend myself to your unconcious will.

Erase the very thought of me and spit your string jewelries, like lumps of coal, dead notes, the unappreciated lessons that stuck to your tongue and now refuse to become one with the shadows.

Ravage his ears with my beauty, and he will only commit the same senseless rape of words to yours.

Salvage the leftovers, and promise me you'll think before you speak next time.