spent the last few years idling in a thin sense of self; amid outstretched pores looking to photosynthesize more eccentric disposition even though i know you know my woes consecrate through the spirit, through the veins what i have shown you is thicker than blood–better count your blessings
so HA! neglect wont erase the ways ive molded your mind its a gift, to ditch reason for compassion to breathe vanity to breathe immortal sorrow…
my most absurd suggestion yet, now listen closely: when the tips of my fingers freeze over, let sleeping mountains lie do hate, but dont devour it; holy holy holy holy hold the past like a knife apologies for my insincerity but you must understand… ****, what is left of me?
trembling and then the blade clutters aloof, to and fro and to i cower from the vision of my wicked phantom, skin stretched tight over my bones–yet do what He says, for He makes ruin a honey-like intoxicant omega three, anti-this anti-that, acronyms galore, each a little dose of layers of Him, unraveling atop my fragility