"back to a wall at the broken glass ball where ones fed up with it all not just feeling small

a twitching of cheeks it's been this way for weeks and is this what he seeks? the cellar door creaks

bed fully-clothed you and your betrothed and the people you loathed a stones-throw from homegrown despair alone

i take no time to finish this rhyme exorcising the grime accruing in the back of my mind pure stream-of-consciousness line-by-line at 12:29

need a passport to get to the kitchen sink need the friends i don't have for a chat and a drink need to turn off my brain in order to think need a rope and a stool pull me back from the brink

i'm collecting read receipts today. thanks for your help."

*Seen Mon 14:42