Throwing up the words I can not express in day to day conversation
My words are like guts spilling out like roadkill.
Only when the moon is high and the the world is tranquil
The thoughts start to scream out of every pore in my steaming body
Nothing can silence the rapid words streaming down a raging river
Not the music of the night, nor a mothers lullaby
Mar 20, 2025
Mar 20, 2025 at 11:20 AM UTC
Throwing up the words I can not express in day to day conversation
My words are like guts spilling out like roadkill.
Only when the moon is high and the the world is tranquil
The thoughts start to scream out of every pore in my steaming body
Nothing can silence the rapid words streaming down a raging river
Not the music of the night, nor a mothers lullaby
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