forgive impulsive aches it makes the earthquake you intake less of a moral mistake . prescriptions that enslave the absent waves, silent mindsets stridently crash into relapse.   perhaps the map possess a crave of the same shame.  but see I'm to blame, my mom wasn't the influence staining my strains. See she was tamed, and ashamed. blue chains only entered her veins, bruising the pain in her brain.

Savage activity has become our nation,
Raising an army of vigilante children for admiration. Rules and regulations don’t understand natural temptation, legal sanity is a myth and so is proper dictation. Arousing days of lethal sanity, to keep an uncanny fixation. i'll expatiate on paper, but, never answer any sort of explanation.

"Do you do drugs?” is a rhetorical question to me. I snorted a line to connect the answer to my eyes, so, the drip could tell my throat to dilate their minds and swallow the idea that everyone is ******* blind. And maybe they are, ****, i sure as hell don’t feel around with a walking stick. But i do tap my glasses against hard surfaces, keeping a sharp grasp on the shards of glass i’ve been smashing’ in hopes the reflection will stop masking the reason i keep overreacting and stashing pills in my abdomen. They will understand when i vanish completely why it’s called fasting. My religion isn’t of the church, but of the body and the mind. That's constantly runs off the time i spend draining out the plugged up emotions and sunken down guts I’ve puked up because i fear of dying unknown. i haven’t lived out my 20′s, ****. I guess i’m a clone for devoting time towards the public, who see me as another subject who’s cocky as **** and hates themselves whenever alone. Even my parents surpass the overlapping content filled with clues hidden in the context, I guess my words aren’t imperative enough for a toxic thrown. I’m hazardous waste, overdose prone.