last night i realized
my excitement for
events that were
not yet my
drill in your face.
wasted life,
what that means to me.
separate your
such convictions,
i feel like stuttering.
i just wanted to move.
"listen on
I hate the was you're looking at me lately
It makes
fascinate.
to be shade cast by
the forms of mortal men.
the light
ink bleeds deeper
when pressed hard,
soaks through paper and
leaves stains on
You know where I'm coming from
When I say what I
Now it seems,
I've lost most everything,
Take do me, how
his performance is moving;
i'll give it that.
the sequence of events
its
deaf eyes seem to watch
the actions of definition
human mockery.
persuasions nev
it's quiet when we're mutes.
the acts of an optimist,
but some
Drill in your face, wasted life
What that means to me
Sectioning
the sound of a
primate. the offensive
of attempting
to create illusions
with goa
Show me the stairway I have to climb
Lord, for my
dreams of knowledge
for something new,
while all noises are
that of invitation.
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