Litter -No.2

The message stuck in your voice box

It’s the voices in you telling you you’ve got choices, whilst you’re sat there listening to the humming of another Sunday afternoon. An image in the desert, an empty void, a disused security truck, and the message stuck in your voice box. Sincerely yours, a devout recipient of true feeling and gut. Uncertain about the distance he searches between two points. The rock star in you, the things you can’t do, multiplication, good days, and sex on a first date, the scathing and visions you foreseeable tolerate. Then in haste, in a heated debate you unleash a version of the world and all of it is of rage - so you turn the page like Rakim; 'i start to think and then i sink, into the paper like i was ink. When I'm writing, i'm trapped in between the lines - i escape, when i finished the rhyme'