k. smith, ok?

#happy birthday

  you're an electric
  something or rather
 
   a mathematics master
    or rather: a master

      o hearts, farts,
       o living chicken

you have clucked another
plucked a cow of milk

don't know what cray cray shit kentucky chicks do on in their garden patches. asnwer the tele. laugh and rub me in blood-jelly, coors coors, smoors on the lamplight your eyes dripping crows

like you slit the mud and crawled to california. i want you. nah. i want to write a better poem for you: CBF.
lol. lulz on your face.

i want to play your sister in a dream like i am your gameboy and you braid my hair and maybe stab me with hepatitis needle.  (that's how fucked up you are :)----

...but for reals i hope the moon is friendly, and that the ones who love you love you. that you wear a seatbelt on your horse, and that you have mittens on in the winter, fahr water in your heart.

dear gurl

i hope that you dont hate me.