RMC

No fanatic antic
I am no superman shit
I just fit in where I’m lit
like a spike in night hit.

Dig a hole bury deep
the stench a trench
is of might its asleep
in the earth it’s bent.

Sent an arch above
is levin like a dove.
Light is the might shove
I do too but I kiss and love.

All that you are
we don’t have to be far
from the truth
is not or what is bizarre.

It’s the smell of the hell
that whatsoever it is
that which you spell I tell
to my heart to quiz.

Antic of a manic
who is so fresh and clean
causes no need to panic
after all that I have seen.

Bury deep I do what I keep
close to my heart will never part.
I reap the sleep of thieves
to rip my heart apart.

That I feel fit to kneel
has great astonish and appeal.
I seek a meek sleek zeal
and someone who is real.

Lit like a spike I might
see fit to fight the fight
like a crystal in the night
I’ll be wrong so you can be right.

This version of myself
puts your health on a shelf
along with my spine I have stealth;
at night I strike spells.

My mind finds you in the deep
where eyes and hips meet.
Down pound the vodka quick
and my put my burdens to sleep.