Read My Shit.

Read my fucking poetry.

More than half of it is about you ANYWAY.
God, song after song after song I listen to of yours.

Not because I want to do you favors.

But because I care.

Like, no.
I actually sincerely care about your shit.
I believe in you.
I BELIEVE in you…
In the POWER of You.
I stand in accordance with the stars which align
to shine favor upon all of your talents and dreams.
So the least I can do to prove
my devotion to your craft,
the least I can do to prove
my excitement for all that excites you
is to listen to your shit.

And I don’t mean press-play-and-let-it-serve-as-background-music-to-me-doing-other-things type listen.
I mean, press-play-close-my-eyes-feast-on-your-metaphors-and-take –time-to-appreciate-your-mind type listen.

So read them.
Feed on them.
Let them drip slickly from the outermost corners of your grin to the very bottom of your thick chin…

Read my shit.