The fixation of brown on toast
Is basically inviting to a host
As the thought insertion perversions
Drawl on and by
I'm through with what could of been the last line
I've lost my focus
And am reliable enough
To have my rights
Out of time music echoes through the device
A triathalon of apparent excellence
That is if we could see it
It never becomes personal
May as well be a tree
Just because you're thinking our loud to me
Does not mean I have to rely on you
And please do not rely on me anymore.
The intellect itself is enough for articulation
It is an epiphany laced with ghosts of fullness
Many times