shattered little pieces slammed together by the galaxies sneeze
I like to feel
To smile
To question
to yearn, to learn, be concerned for the raised and fretted brow
turn the other tile to try to understand
I have to hurt to comprehend
I like to hurt
I like to laugh
Just to know I'm alive
I'm fine
I like to feel.
just a sip
Whiskey to remember she doesn't miss me.
Memories made memoirs, more mystic, more unrelatable
i like life's fantasy it leaves less intimacy on my lips
At least life fucks me
But, Do riddle me this
Is it about guarded joy or free spirited chance
it makes us waltz for a cold hand
Yet,
it's not about lust at first glance
Love doesn't impress me
But damn do i love to dance,
and i'll dance the night away.
I guess I’ll write
The window is cold tonight, with all the fire in the streets, I thought it would be chilly. It truly was a beautiful day, you know, minus the mutilated flesh and exposed bone I had to escape from for the first half of the day, it was still strangely satisfying though. I just barely found this utility shed, thank Jed. The last few months I've questioned if this rain was ever going to stop. You know, i thought it was strange but today's been down right awkward, I think i'm prepared for anything now. I'm so tired, they keep knocking and i know they're going to get in. I don't know if I care anymore, I have to sleep. I know she's okay.
just a few words
we're fucked till we fossilize, fucked till we forget fragments, madness to think memories made us wise.
past experience mental turbulence and infected mosquito flies,
destiny with illegitimate names creation and destruction in another form
again.
wrong place wrong time wrong nation
i'm sorry you're the ones to sleep tonight,
but you know,
population
you have no time to interrogate death when she lay her head on your shoulder.
engulfed and enraged in a human compassion cause we are lackin' denied and reputed from the reason of respect to our self. could any resource be bolder. a reason to explode with destiny you say, i'm just another drop getting lost in the cup holder
forgetting all of the unimportant company,
you are the worlds bumblebee, creation in your palms
to some destruction from a distance.
i'm insensitive like hell, to that ego, and amigo i barely exist in my soul anymore,
im attatched to an empty glass ship holder spinning playing a game by my self unfufilled yet kissing the bottle somemore.
i just want to make the flowers grow. but its hard to when i cant bumble off the floor.
i am not wasted or reflecting on my sorrow. but god damn is hard to stay positive when i notice more and more lost tomorrows.
but you know,
population