There's a turn up for deceived fire
Where the beast and false night forever cheer
I heard that basis resides beneath a silver tree hidden in paradise
Create the unforgivable
But forgive

Excuse my flipancy
Creation gave me a superabundance of work
It carried with it, the noxious whiff of finality,
Running with desire
My role was set forever

Her sanity barely stood
Death sometimes visited her in the deepest of the night
Asleep
She spoke about an infinite number of stars
And of motionless places hidden within the clouds

It's jocular, how one idea, one image, one thought of a partcicular human,
Can overtake one's mind inexplicably
To let it control you, however,
Is a juggled device
Some humans don't know how to step into the dirt of action needed to take control
It is sometimes a skill that needs hastening
It is a skill overall,
That must be mastered
Plastered amongst imbeciles,
Is the idea that awareness of thoughts does not exist

Some days I can't look people in the eyes
And sometimes, I can't force myself to say one word
Though, my mind is yelling everything
Creating lists to no end
I have a lot to say
So I talk to books of bonded paper
And palettes constructed of fatty vibrant medium
There's no medium in my waking life
But, only two ends of the stick
Too many highs
Too many lows
I adress myself more than anyone else
I have open eyes and bitten lips

Our lines are parallel.
As crooked as they are alone.