Crossed country with the reasons
there was the level of identification with the fracture
and held tight by the shirt, the mind with the mangled heart
screaming
"I created it!"
"Its mine!"
The glass half empty told by gods a little more established therein
The glass half empty is pragmatism
so the god transformed
With the swirling
& The swirling
How does joy become old
But fear becomes brand new once administered
So the god transformed
The staples flung out the mangled heart
Thin iron twisted, getting lost in soot by corners of rooms with hardwood floors
And it screamed
"I created it!"
"I'm ******* freed of it!"