when i die i wanna grow into a tree i want em to bury me mixed in with soil and leaves and when i m stretched cross the land and your son cuts me down i wanna be the book your grandchildren read aloud with the tape on my spine i m still proud i want em to hand me down and give me to goodwill and price me for a dollar still get shoplifted hell torn open just to give a man shelter shit that s the world of my wishes this paper my motivation money the sole witness my bones are just branches saplings twisting matching everything i had to live with when the flower blooms it s whatever i m in tune with that s what i hope you take pictures of the line between misery and living breathing is thin enough i struggle to be the seed that i love but when the time comes rooted in the purpose and the prose we hope whatever grows mirrors all the seeds you ever sowed so when the time comes and your vines run and the mind numbs they will define sums in the divine sun that s filling my lungs look at these paper mach people construction paper skies newspaper brains with the moleskine eyes all i need is one match to make em dance stick your hands in they re just waiting for a chance to be candid maybe go up in flames like ya mans did they don t know what they want they re just asking and still trying to act like they ran shit ok now maybe if you sketched out your body you wouldn t have to declare yourself sorry don t put it on me not my fault i didn t shove you in the copy i had to write my own booki did it sloppy and if you fall on the ground i ain t picking you up and if you bury yourself i ain t digging you up and when you turn into dust i ain t kicking you up and when you get in my way i m just ripping you up when the time comes rooted in the purpose and the prose we hope whatever grows mirrors all the seeds you ever sowed so when the time comes and your vines run and the mind numbs they will define sums in the divine sun that s filling my lungs when the time comes1