morpheus*

grasping your attention with details that would only matter in person; all eyes on you, believing anything exaggerated, simply because you didn’t attend the excursion…

daily, I laugh at myself – because of how creative I can be, studying who I am, and prioritizing it to be something I do habitually; I just may be talking (per usually), then later you realize, I’m some super wise ass fairy, who doesn’t really take it lightly toward those who condemn; someone who was given momentary power to drop really heavy gems. again, this is why I laugh, extending my years on earth, with endless doors I decide to add to my path…

I’m something else – literally. I’m a rare breed, whose hair sheds like wool; an unfamiliar cloth; the need to levitate to me is worse that a flame story with the moth…I give off the power to create acoustics of spoken word, without making one sound, although I’m not going for subliminal ways to make you feel gullible; there’s only blindness when your ignore the infallible…

when I write, I put everything I feel into these inked markings, so you can genuinely understand me for my sunshine, and not for my darkness…

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