I see people in the mirror I hear voices around my head I see a little guy on my shoulder looking at my head Theres a little heart in my chest looking all red with no set
Round shining dots with no twinkle in the sky Bees on flowers with pointy needles seeking honey in my mind Cars of the road never less travelled cause of foot prints there but also... just there
Objects of non creation stationed to not hear Notes of words never sung Strings of guitars charging my phone This is the afterlife of creation breaking the peter of where i am.