This silly shrill putting
Clothes on hangers in my
Head
Judging me, myself by
Conceptions I should have long
Since shot dead
Either way the formalities
Leave you wasting time on
Trivialities
And my needs I cannot touch
I cannot grasp what sustains me much
It's like living up to someone's
Voice and the
Echoes linger still
That get mistranslated as the
Noise reverberates from the
Wall's of a well.
Such sounds I hear
And all this hot air
I'm just going to leave them there
To burn the floor down.
Nov 20, 2015
Nov 20, 2015 at 4:56 AM UTC
This silly shrill putting
Clothes on hangers in my
Head
Judging me, myself by
Conceptions I should have long
Since shot dead
Either way the formalities
Leave you wasting time on
Trivialities
And my needs I cannot touch
I cannot grasp what sustains me much
It's like living up to someone's
Voice and the
Echoes linger still
That get mistranslated as the
Noise reverberates from the
Wall's of a well.
Such sounds I hear
And all this hot air
I'm just going to leave them there
To burn the floor down.
Freud has the I.d, the ego and the superego. Some food for thought.
