Everything but the kitchen sink.

How do I inspire in someone, a feeling that I struggle to ignite within myself. I cannot tell her what she is worth, I cannot help. I'm not great, not even good to date, today. I just want to taste her tongue. She just wants to bear his young. He sticks his dick in, thrusts once, twice, maybe a whole ten minutes, and then he ducks out again. Her other girl called K, she's been saving up her feelings and locking them away. I don't know how to preserve this innocence when nothing gold can stay. If I had, had it my way, nothing would have been this way, and everything gold could have stayed and stood and withheld the test of time. My mind is prison, and while I'm locked in its fizzing, acidic thoughts eating their way out of my skull, my opinion is null, no one has ever really cared all much anyway, as I simply don't hold that much sway. From here I want to run away. I think I would be okay if I were to die today, to die to death, and yeah that's too death because there is just too much though some say it's a rush, I say it's onward to the next adventure. After all death is all we have left that we haven't cracked open and killed. Over filled and over filed and over studied, goddammit why can't we just be pals for as long as we are around and just sit still why to we have to do the drill, I'm getting ill. I'm tired of crying but it feels like I'm dying and maybe there is some panic involved because my voice is getting shrill and I'm writing with a quill and this isn't real, so reel me back in to the reality in question, cause I'm questing onward despite all error and folly. I'm high as Alaska and goody golly ain't that baked and jolly. Santa Claus and Santa paws and who the fuck let out the dogs my life isn't working who is licking me I'm dying dearie can't you see.