Trying to forget, but it always comes back. Like ****** on a stressful day. Like El Diablo when I take those fancy colored tabs. Pull back, Push in. Pass it to me. Pass me on. Pass out.
Time to remember.
Psychopathic symbols, symbolic static, stares, start seeing....
Something?
Happy Birthday to me.

Floating through my friends body.
Say you need me.
Come inside, my angry friend.
Say you love me.
Sit beside me and remind me why we are here.
You.
Are you here for anything I can help you with-
  are you here because I let you in-
      because there is no where else to go-
          for some unreachable goal-
              who are you now-
                   -then-
Guitar strings strummed - slammed.
No sound, just strings. Playing hard. Pressing chords. muted.
Pick that note. Dropping it is just as easy.
   Easy is like a *****-
      giving, taking, faking, *******, freeing, fleeing-
          baby girl, you've been down before-
              down on your knees
                   -deep-
Throat is sore.

Happy place of mine - where are you tonight?
I need someone right now to hold me tight.

Walk away, walk away.
They don't give a **** for you, they never do.

Happy place of mine - where are you?

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.