I can't see past yesterday's failed sunny day.
Grapes need sun to drink or they'll shrink right away.
Today's price ain't worth the bottle.
Tomorrow is dead chardonnay.
Open the vineyard
I'll try another way
I'll try anyway
David had a sling and rocks made of barium sulfate.
Fast and dense like that of a bullet.
David shot a gun at the Philistine pulpit.
Afraid of living life in variance.
Not proud of the factorial desgin.
Theres steps to the madness.
Levels on levels on levels
She's a 3x4x8x7x125
Three by four by eight by seven by one hundred and twenty five.
Experimental data reigns here yet bows to detrimental denominators.
Watch your parameters!!!!
Rho your boat and watch the time!!!!
Just enough to keep you confused until you decide to restart the computer and surrender to professor neuse.
Research methods fall 2018
Here's the cue
I want to pleasure this life.
The heaven and sea soak in my hands.
I got the sky at my fingertips.
I got marina each time she drips.
Soaked, I even thought I'd burst blue
Wet hands and all
Without a single clue
I'd do it again
I painted my nails baby blue for you.
With salty eyes and a wet face, I come to tell you the story that has been rewritten.
I do not remember the time, month or place.
I had played with dolls that day
and waited to watch taped cartoons on replay.
The night was full, together and never apart from the place that I stayed.
A bond that felt genetic to the core of my state.
This night was the last time I felt whole.
The last night that everything was interconnected through time and space.
No matter how far I strayed every place felt like a home. Or at least not too far away.
Like monozygotic twins reared apart, I was never too far away.
A genetic bond that set the night and day.
Many bodies in one soul.
My mother left this day.
“I promise I'll be better. I'll sleep in my own bed. Ill behave. I won't ask for more dolls or bother you when I mess up the tapes. Don’t leave. Stay here. Look at me I don’t take up much space. There’s room for you here under my cape.”
Despite my efforts what was written was written.
Eventually, you came home and said you had found your place.
I’ve yet to find a place with an address I remember.
I don't know how to fix this part of me.
It's not you, it's me.
As much as I want it to be you
Go far, run, and leave this place.
I'll try and keep it secret from the most selfish parts of me.
On this night I have recognized my greatest weakness.
On this night I let it go
Monday nights on earth
A choice of two remedies
Warm me up at home or in the new place in westlake?
Which way, to which way goes the winds?
Windy libra evenings blow all around me.
After all, what did I expect when venus stays above this part of town.
There is refuge from this cold
in the cafe on Lennox.
It was here that I met deep purple eyes.
The ones filled with magic, luxury, and the smoothest contact.
They cried the kind of warm purple tears that are hard to describe.
You taste like velvet feels.
You taste like twinkle sounds.
Have you ever had lavender hot chocolate on a cold Monday night?
Interesting because neither have I.
Peace be what keeps you dead.
Beneath these roots is a land of bone.
Desolate, lost, and never known.
Blossom buried herself in search for earth and church.
A place called heavenly home.
Sweet innocent flower, dont you know?
You're dead to them.
You're dead to thee.
You've been dead for about a century.
You killed yourself that night you thought it be better if you bloomed alone.
What did you think would happen in alley of the shadow of death?
You feared it. You wanted it.
You let it rip you too pieces and now your soul is scattered across the graveyard.
Chaos be what kept you searching.
Pain be what left you dead.
Peace be what keeps you dead.
My beautiful little flower.