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I don't write. I create.

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My writings pretty shit.
But my creativity is legit.
You can’t get a hit.
So you might as well sit!
Wrap a band around your arm and inject a little bit.
I’m not talkin’ drugs. I’m promoting my spit.
Thighs too hot, don’t forget your mitts.
I cry sometimes, but I’ll never quit.
Pussy sweet like honey, but you’ll never get a lick.
Your dreams so vivid, like PornHub you click.
Kiss you so good, with my sexy red lips.
Bought you up to my attention, with my fingertips.
Vegan burgers on my grill, we got an avocado dip.
Saved only memories, but I’m still booking a Lil trip.
Watch what you say, you don’t want Crow to flip.
Running through my city, down the middle of the strip.
Eyes so brown, look deep and you may slip.
Slip into love and feel pain from my clip.
I’m not talking about guns, I’m giving you a tip.
Baby, please don’t cry, cut us out with a snip.
Like I stated earlier, my writings pretty shit.
PS: Did I forget to mention, this whole piece was a blip.

You got the pussy
But not the time
My life is fine
She’s not divine
I’ve got the vibe
My mind is mine
You want my time
I’m not inclined
I taste sublime
You’ll always mind
Moments so fine
I’m divine
I have no time
Reeses pieces on my titties? Never. No.

Sexy Saturday sucking Sam, so slowly.

I wake up.
I stretch.
I shower. My scent? Acai-berry yumminess.
I’m dressing.
I examine my outfit, I don’t want to wear layers.
I’m outside, strolling.
Eyes beam across my chest. My chest.
My curves are visible.
It’s true, I removed that additional layer.
My nipples peer out at you. All of you.
Hello!
Hello!
You made.
You poured.
I sipped.
I dismissed.
We kissed.
Coffee lips.
I quit. That’s it.
You disagree with the facts.
You don’t agree on this or that.
You’re wrong.
You know this.
But you rather think I lack the capabilities to think for myself.
Upon review, I don’t care to entertain your mindset.
I did not have sexual relations with that man.
Your centre of excellence.

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Your truest vision.
Your sustenance.
Your cushion.

Apparently, I’m not good enough.
So you push back on my prospects.
We all must live with our choices, until the end of our lives.
I’m not here.
I’m a figment of your imagination.
Even the sweetest moments were lost.
Know that back then…I never thought this was possible.
I envisioned a delusion.
Know that I died that day.
Know that I was buried in a capsule of bullshit.
Know that my last thoughts were of the good times you conjured up.

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In yourself.
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