You think you have me pegged, false foot steps, tangled legs. Sprinting to a stop condescending demeanor. Reverse is the way I had seen her, carefully tip toe past the finish line in discreet unnoticed fashion, superficial cash in, scratching with empty talons. She's the seamstress to my soul, sewing it stitch by stitch. Though, at times she’s a knotty bit*ch. Embroidering my edges applying layers to this tapestry, I wish she would make me whole, join me in pursuit of soul. Fate is uncertain beneath the looming curtain of plagued obstacles smirk.She loved me like a black cat does superstition,it was sown into her intuition .So natural,though with a fray in her Defiance of.....

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