Of atheism, you want to be the God of your own life.

If I look down, they'll be a thumb print. Branded on my hips, from all the nights you held me. Melded together, perfect minerals

3 minutes to sit down, the rest of your life to walk around. Down town is my favorite, artist never look in your eyes. They're scared, one day they might just see. Your eyes.

Sleeping keeps the headaches that creep back without a peep.
Consciousness more or less leaves me torn and hopeless.
Sometimes i sit in the cool dark, sometimes the hot.
Sometimes i speak to nobody and occasionally,
I get the privilege of listening.