I can measure time with blinking eyes.
Reading the lights behind my eyelids
Reaping benifits that **** the atrocious hazel gaze
I find
I seek three of everything my feet can squirm over to. Gluttonous smelly mouthless creeping toiling sleeping paranoia, held back within the reaches of my skin, a key needed and kept secret, yet released frequently for its servitude to these, our basest natures.

I can measure bliss in forgotten time.
Pupil dilation suspected slime boss
What the **** am I doing.