so by the time of a force of an effect of the most important favorite place I am the First to be reviewed, now I am the First to find out what it is the heck is a bit of a washed-up new window heaven being a good idea, too.
when did you realize our street was on fire like sort of hanging over smearing the hate for themselves for the rest of us with spark head moving forward
they don't go home this is popcorn classic movement of hands muses getting some mustered darkness covered in dust warmth
the noise being made over layers of humanity eating itself
i don't know i do not understand i don't know how to but i could try
inside an early morning the sky flipped around cart wheeling above lightning bolt flashes big thunder boomers some clouds fostered the rain which leaps onto the earth just as Zeus flushes the toilet and the entire world stops to listen for him to zip.
funny about the walls we built during hours spent digging up crazy things we all felt made up out of garbage.
why could nobody stop the war when it climbed into their screens?
when everyone's favorite thing turned off you could see the sky flickering for miles.
that day was my favourite day. it stood still against the bright blue backdrop and you could hear the angels taking pictures on their smartphones laughing about how foolish we were for believing in them.
back then I didn't know how to look at all the walls building up on the earth or at the angels with smartphones.
but now it sorta feels like maybe I've found a place to be near them by trains in the union yard in the streets walking slowly and at home with my feet burried underneath the ***** dishes laughing about how foolish I am to believe.
on the horizon of tribulation variables hover as unwritten expressions the plane of abstract thought a stream of consciousness holds memories from long ago
the uncertainty holds us close as a ghost our worlds float further away and the fatigue remains intimately alive
when I sit alone she shows me that I'm small too imbued with a tendency to exude, to emote I am barely vocal the plan is predictable you pluck sentiment from thin air and with a flap of your wings take off into trepidation