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Se 12:59 p.m. 2005-11-24 Lacking positioning and any sense of validity. Sprawled upon that booth like the clouds over flagstaff and i've never been there. Divinity laced with desperation these construed bonds are gossamer and illusionary. There is no substance here, we've lost the will to write the way we used to, when the power of the words would shatter the simplicity of life and abolish that unwholesome complexity. When you stop sleeping, you start seeing something more and in your fucking inane sense of security and fear i see nothing more or less than loss or the constant that is in all of us. And if you can't see the crippling pain that rises with the moon and sucks the color from my eyes and the smile from my lips, you're more blind than i thought. And is is just projection? This... this self that you've seen is that me or am i less together than you thought. Irrelevant. And you. You're waiting on an answer... or you've given up just like you said you wouldn't no dice no worries no false sense of security this time. The hourglass is waiting like a perfect mimicry of synchornicity and the ossuary is a gaping maw swallowing your sense of self righteousness. Slanderous your tongue back & forth |