I'm caught in the meandering confines of the webs that hold all my words like the tortures. that sinew creates like the voices that spiders death makes
like a discrete collected. symposium in the Greek corridor beyond everything. these thoughts. are a zoo of confines every species is a destruction we all slowly **** the once perfect thought of ourselves because every single time we listen to another's thoughts we give up our own ectoplasm we make a country of ghost a set. defined layer, film of loss then we try and share it. on top of that on top of decadence on top of world skyscrapers that create new heights, new shoulders of the sky that our humanist shall strive towards i just want my ghost to mean something i want my light to overshade the shadow i want there to be a supernova in my eyes i want for you to take that power. make a reactor.