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Brian Johnson Feb 2020
Forward this recluse to the front lines of society a pen is his only weapon karma is the only escape. Wielding it in blinded fear a new wilderness lies before him. I feel gift for I am this a weapon against self. I choose in reason karma hide when need me karma I fasten this pain to finger you crawl out exposing my true self tearing flesh from bone creating a portal to see, to be. I will fight on the inside **** I will cry and lie to myself judging you for you for me. I will throw glass throat this Glass House and expect nothing to break, blending you when it does. In introverted crown my masks impenetrable karma my God heavily-armed poised for attack when you blink throwing questions at question. Tears stain my cheek as you walk by. I use my weapon when I'm alone karma I sit with myself nice off couch what a comfortable Stone karma Caesar's grass bring oceanic scented insights into an oil stained mill City. I'm asking myself questions taking notes and watching. I bask in the bountiful harvest of knowledge display before before us all each and every day weather it's the body floating down the canal the soft Moon blooming Jasmine in the springing months my eyes water yeah my flow is uncontrolled.
It is all about exposure without exposing anything

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