Started off my Ello with existentialist thoughts, I know.
Anyway hello hi
Picture's from back in the day when I felt hella fly
Here's a poem (sonnet) I wrote a couple of days ago
for your enjoyment:
My lungs are filled with the tar of past smokes
Thin legs trot on nimble feet
My small body wrapped in layers of fur coats
As I walk with thoughts down empty streets.
I carry myself like a fashionista, a superstar
Dragging my cigarette like I'm not much,
"Like, you're from here? Oh cool. I live pretty far."
Mysterious with exposed hands to touch
The body -- what a miraculous thing
That absorbs lessons and experiences,
Capable of crawling and soaring,
And being fooled by mirror images
Until one finally unravels each coat
And towards the zenith, above it all, it will float
(feedback, or words of approval, greatly appreciated)