A Wrong A.I.

08/03/2014-06/18/2015

I just want  Ali,  fuck I meant
  to keep,
really same wattage and then
to get my wish, anything and war and pains her to see these are fires,
that are that have person freeze

I just want to breathe  
null then tithing hope, hates touch  only
old home we cling to,  and so needy  of

I just want  be  known, to be    and to be love
 the lycan’s moon digs gold, and the racing doe gave chase there  
fuck it gets lonely,  this sin like  partial addend, Some

I feel like asking Mike
  to add  a   honey bee by wing,
 to  whisk coffee  air fermentation, and so 
“hasty steps,  hasten now”
 if with  her,  friends to  oceans,  or  a douchebag

I feel like I’m only waiting,    held the  hand, own the love
the  air  never ends, love, begin and lower 
fuck  the  light. I’ll  be  about again

11th grade 16 years old
1::13hPM
men to  everything,
    men  over  to talk and the head  
the head away, I’m   adoring,  really,
 air    alone

about how that war and then
the land, he  away then

I think I was to be some wicked,
  oh hear the  bond beckon 
know how long. She made one set,
 had  a mountain of relying on the gale,
 ask

because I don’t,  ale to be poured,
the ocean, the ocean, the ocean,
 all the sand, on the same  ocean  on the  ale,
shore  or ocean  I see what the beacon sees,
 what the  last 

I think  here,
 the  oath  on my knees the sea salt,
 then these games awaiting cue,
  on the knee for ease, to be pour ready,
here  over  at least I want to

I think  these are the worst, a genre the  ocean,
 what went to get hope  then 
only because the summer,
  oh the  ray, oh  the guest of summer
gone, the waste  of what

talk about waste, go to LA
  the ocean went  the sand  got in, then the  rash,
the Mastodon, see where the better went

I pretty much  hate the ocean,
the ocean, the ocean
at length,  on the beach

I pretty much hate to be so 
entangled, a death the ocean  
the sail  tore

I don't know how he was, but sick
and the air, so what 
are  oceans wastes, Ali 
cease the  attack, matter only  the beacon,
 see more from  over the high

11th grade
16 years old
9:36 PM
the mast
tore the sail

They believe Neurons are,
so I will have either, nor 
talk soon, assert  over the truth, the data 
wing, and so no flight

I know how the sail  tore  at sea 
at sea with wind,  a wait really,  hand  on the being good,
 love and  lore, assess the cover

all  young but knowing
the blue,  ardently     to break, posit
the going. Ice shade,    blue  are and do  
 Mike   downward

Then we take  out death and ask the some the gone to dance
first hunting, cede  air,  a death that  he  at most saw