Take a number, please. Don't cut in line.
We've got plenty of time, to pay, for our crimes.
Our dues are owed. To the "man" we sold to, and, yea;
we've got plenty of time to pay for our crimes.
You had better stand right here next to me, and;
don't let me know where we are.
I just want to know how far I have gone
Then take me home.
Leave me alone.
I don't want to go.
I don't want to know.
Anything.
Anything at all.
I don't want to be here, running away.
I don't even know your ******* name.
I don't want to go home, just make it all go away.
I don't want to be here, just want to run away.
I'm so sorry.
Please, go away.
just go away.......
I'm so sorry and go away.

This ****** garbage I put on the screen. Screaming for some sort of definition of what I am. What I feel. Fear  - what I say. Said.
Tears that are like fire drops bleeding down my salty cheeks. Too pale to see the Sun. To weak to see my son. Develop - Grow. Live.
This mistaken luck has been put on a microphone. Grabbing it -- to drop it. I murdered those words. I killed this mistaken life. Left.
Explode your lyrical database on my inverted abdomen - woo me. Her. You don't seem to take notes on the spherical (re)cycle that drives your automated mobile. To nowhere. But here.
******* lover. Or did I? Did I ever... or do you always?
Tough.

Re: Your Availability
Is it this yours or mine? Only time will define the kind of charm that you chime when you're dropping your line in my ears

I will find.

A favorite color, too bright for my eyes,  a
  favorite food.

A fruit left longing for a rhythm
   a rhyme.

Sit down and ***** with rinds under nails
  smelly.

Citrus acid and sweet juicyness drips down
   my hands.