Jul 2010
Sweet owl!
Flown to me
right inside my eyes
I can't ****** anymore
but I say I'd love to bleed you dry
This knowledge is astounding
I could just cry or try at least
I've let out a moonlight sigh
these furtive festering dreams inside
right between my eyes
but the owl is in my pocket
so lets peel apart my eyes
and even though I might try try try
we never stop looking at the sky
Flown to me
right inside my eyes
I can't ****** anymore
but I say I'd love to bleed you dry
This knowledge is astounding
I could just cry or try at least
I've let out a moonlight sigh
these furtive festering dreams inside
right between my eyes
but the owl is in my pocket
so lets peel apart my eyes
and even though I might try try try
we never stop looking at the sky
It seems to me that some people tell me to write things that make more sense...when I write that way I become profoundly bored. My life is defined by the terms I understand; if someone cannot understand my way of definition, then what bother is it for them to understand myself?
I've always loved gender-confusion.
I've always loved gender-confusion.
