i know my feelings aren't significant,
no matter what my mother tells me, and i'm losing my words.

my eclectic mind is in a way
lost. lost, lost, lost, i'm so freaking lost but this repetition of confusion will do nothing to save me from myself.

my hair's all over the place. you say it doesn't make me look a mess. you say it makes me seem real. you say
nothing anymore.

this is thirst,
the force of which could **** innocent people. a drought of love can be dangerous.

soft sound.
a whisper into your satellite dish reminding you that you are deaf to beauty and blind to the love that's in front of you and always have been.