It was all without
For what of us
Do ***** on the hour
She drunk as liquor
He like toast

There was once a girl named indigo //
And there was a Christmas tree she wanted to chop down
She possessed all the tools to complete this task
She received a saw for chopping the wood
She picked up the saw and got on her knees
But then something peculiar happened //
Something so ******* strange yet entrancing at the same time
// The tree
began to grow backwards into the ground
the roots became a seed
and life became counter clockwise
counter clockwise of insanity and greed
Bluejays swum while cod fish flew
Her world got kicked over by the bully from school
She wanted to shoot everything because nothing made sense any more
More than anything she just wanted to be
But the subliminal messages she couldn’t read
While supercritical people just watched her bleed
The alphabet no longer went from A to Z
/and there was no such things as vowels//
without vowels she couldn’t write poetry
and without poetry she had no oxygen
her world was no more
it was all in code
it was so ****** up it was like watching the liveliness come out of her father’s throat
Oh wait, I didn’t tell you
Indigo watched the liveliness come out of her father’s throat//
Indigo became a synonym for insanity
the tornado spit her out like a beautiful waterfall
instead of ******* her in//
all she could do is fall //
but//
she can’t breathe
and she’s being compressed
she can’t see
she’s understanding less
she’s trying to act what society classifies as normal
but it is a useless approach
she is climbing in gym class, but without a rope
yet the rope is a noose
She is over analyzing herself into a hiatus space
Where it’s not actually hiatus but filled with chaotic mace
The mace is getting sprayed in her retinas
But she can’t see anything
Regretin the
Upside down world she created
Life stuck in reverse not tolerated
Revolving in ways that make her isolated//
But maybe if she stopped//
Stopped
Separating the separated
Decided to educate the educated
And learn to not under estimate the estimated
Then she too could feel that feeling again
but
Indigo can’t feel
And
She says
Hit me
Punch me
Kick me
Shoot me
Just do whatever you can to make me feel
Feel this feelingless life so I can begin heal
She wakes up and opens her eyes and now she is blind
The chaos has turned her heart into a mind
And mind into the heart
Where brain waves pump blood instead of intellectual parts
And her car won’t stop going in reverse but she is still pushing it forward to start
But it’s stuck
She’s stuck
Help indigo she’s stuck
All I want is for indigo is to be what she is:
a deep captivating blue
and I want her to captivate the blue
like the ocean captivates the white part of the waves//
the part that crashes the hardest at mid day
and I want the wave to push her over
PUSH ME OVER WAVE
HIT ME
PUNCH ME
KICK ME
SHOOT ME
MAKE ME FEEL AGAIN
MAKE ME THE CAPTIVATING BLUE
FORCE ME-TO-CAPTIVATE-THAT-BLUE
AND MAYBE MY BRAIN WILL TURN BACK INTO MY BRAIN
AND MY HEART WILL TURN BACK INTO A HEART
WHERE IT DOES PUMP BLOOD INSTEAD OF INTELLECTUAL PARTS
AND I’LL LEARN TO READ THE SUBLIMINAL MESSAGES PEOPLE SAID TO ME
AND I’LL EVEN APPRECIATE WHEN I BLEED
EVEN IF SUPERCRITICAL PEOPLE WERE THE CAUSE OF IT AND NOT ME
And I’ll learn to breath, I’ll learn to breathe, and I’ll learn all over again because
After all, all Indigo was, was one thing:
A deep captivating blue.

If there’s Heaven and there’s Hell,
show me where I belong.
And if my place is not in either,
help me burn them down.*

I.
I don’t know where we’re going or what we are
or who we are and I don’t know the right questions to
ask; and even if I knew I wouldn’t know the answers
and I wouldn’t know anyone who could actually provide
an explanation for why it is all like it is. I am insane
and maybe you too are and we stand on shores but  
my shore is not your shore and is there even water
on these shores and why am I drowning. I think
I’m underwater and maybe we all feel like we’re dying
or like we’re already dead. I just understand that
learning how to swim and how to breathe and how
to live are the things my parents did not teach me
and all I feel is salty air but my lungs are decrepit
and how do I take a breath when the air is full of poison –
the one you’re emitting and the one I’m emitting,
and aren’t we all just so toxic?
So I’m knee-deep into water but I cannot force
my lungs to work, and I’m waist-deep into water
but they still don’t work; and now my body is
feelingless and floating and I don’t know
how to live. Do you? Does any of us?
So we just let go there on the shore;
it’s sanity and it’s stability and it’s safety all gone.
I knew all the answers but then I grew up
and so did you.
We were metaphors and the world spun around
so now we are just malaphors and we’re ****** up.
How do I explain to you, to anyone that I am drowning
even when I can swim and that I am dead, my eyes
reflect the light; they do not shine, I have a pulse,
I breathe but I’m so not alive
and I am drowning ashore, I am away from the water
and still underneath waves that crush my fragile skeleton
and make me crumble to dust.
I used to be a metaphor but I’m a malaphor now
and I will burn that bridge when I get to it.
That is, if I haven’t yet drowned.

II.
I lie on the floor and boards are creaking and what is
wrong with me and with us and with everyone.
The dog is howling and there’s a silent cat but he’s
not chasing her and she is tired of chasing mice so she
just wants to die but the dog cannot bite and I keep lying
with snakes wrapped around my limbs and I am poison
and I ache. When did friendships become all about lies
and deceit and manipulation? When did I lose myself
in the world of masks? When did it all become about
sexsexsexSEX? Why is it all about who ***** whom
and why do we all want to die? When did we realise
that suicide is a way and how did we find out?
I hear noises and I drown in music and I scream
until my throat hurts and my lungs ache and I
keep thinking WHEN DID I DIE and why
is there no God, I need redemption and don’t we
all crave to be forgiven? I cut, you cut, we cut,
it’s not grammar, it’s life, we don’t do it for attention,
they all cut and we all cut, don’t we, with rusty little
blades ripping ourselves open, letting the pain flow
like red rivers on the floor and we think it’s okay
to carry our scars not like badges and medals of honour
but like shameful reminders of how useless and
worthless we are, and we cut hipbones and thighs
and we cut between ribs and we scratch and bleed
and drown in pure, unbound hatred that comes
straight from our vicious poisoned hearts
and we cut where it can’t be seen because just too many
questions that we’re not willing to face. And we all
write poems about how we want to slit out veins
open, how we want to slay our wrists and crumble and
diedieDIEDIEDE. Why do we want to die, why are we
the ****** up generation who thinks about ****** and solecisms
half of the time and death and virginity and self-hatred and
how our lives mean absolutely nothing?
When did we grow up and become so bitter
and when did our time in the bath become the time when
we want to drown and trains were fun once but now we
want to jump in front of one and trees are not where we
play but where we want to hang ourselves and we
want to jump from cliffs and all we want to do
is **** and die and die and ****, and we were kids
but now we’re not and we’re not adults so who are we?
We’re **** victims, we’re names crossed out, we’re
eulogies and pills and death notes and we want to be
over, why and when and how did the world
**** us up?
We’re caffeine-driven and we do drugs and we’re
all addicted to sadness and addicted to death and addicted to
hatred and we mostly hate us.
We starve ourselves until we can’t stand upright, we starve
until we can see the outlines of our cages and still think
it is not enough, or we eat and we purge and why did we
decide that we wanted to die?
Because we do. I used to be a metaphor
but I’m a malaphor nowand I will burn that bridge when I get to it.
That is, if I haven’t yet drowned.



III.
I want to hold your hand, just hold it and feel you with me
wrapped around and safe and home. I want to kiss your
lips and bite your neck and drown in your eyes,
I want us to **** and make sweet love and sing and
smoke and get drunk, I want us to roll on the floor
laughing and find ourselves on our backs with the wooden
boards underneath us and tears in our eyes, but from happiness
and not this constant sadness, I want love to mean something,
I want to be yours and you to be mine, regardless of gender,
regardless of age, love must be love.
I want us to eat ice cream and pizza and junk food
or healthy food or any food and not be judged and I
want us to live and to love and I want us to
look in the mirror and face our reflections and not
hate what we see, and this is it, this is us.
Do me do me do me, let me be your drug,
get high with me, get high on me, we’re greatness,
we’re power, we’re supreme. We can will it away,
we are who we wish to become, we rise and reign, we
shine and we are stars, we’re supernovas we bring down
kingdoms and we crown ourselves with thorns and twigs,
we’re rulers of ruins and ashes, we burn down temples, we
want to be the best but we think we’re the worst so we
just fake it, fake it all but we are all just galaxies with
potential that is not yet unleashed, we can burn bright if
we only learn how to, we need to learn how to live without
willing to die; we need to learn how to love ourselves first
before we love others and we need to stop hating
and we have scars that might never heal again but can’t we
just accept plain truths and bandage ourselves and move on?
But we some cigarettes and we breathe out the smoke or
we just keep it in our lungs until we burn and until we fall
apart and we’re just snowflakes that have turned to dust,
and we’re ashes that burn holes on the tips of others’
tongues, oh how I wish we could live without burning
scars, without causing pain, without withering away,
without crumbling, why can’t we, why do we all
so desperately want to die and drown and **** and die?
I used to be a metaphor but I’m a malaphor now
and I will burn that bridge when I get to it.
Oh how I wish I could love you and know you
would love me back but our world is so ****** up
and all we can ever do is leave gaping holes and
smoking wounds and salty tears and new ideas
how to die. Let’s change the world, or maybe not,
let’s just find meaning, or at least can we please
forever ever bring down Heaven and Hell
and learn to accept who we are. I used to be a metaphor
but I’m a malaphor now and I will burn that bridge when I get to it.
But then I’ll rebuild it and maybe this time
I will never ever drown.
And I will teach myself to swim and breathe
and live and love, I want to be a metaphor
one more simple and no longer lonely time.

It’s that of losing sensory touch,
my every emotional synthetic lost beneath this skin.
Plastic or that of parchment flesh,
feelings no longer flow and flex beneath,
the electrical current died mid dance,
all is hollow,
no outer force relieves my eternal,
this faceless numbness,
the only emotion that leaves a sting,
cinges my cadaver nerves
is the flame of frustration,
the itch of anger and irritation.
I find it much more playful
than the spineless dolls of dorment feeling,
it’s the only one that gives me a response,
the latter are that of loosely tangible
lost to that of my feelingless far spaces
of the brain for later use and development,
for now all is lukewarm,
so muffled in psychopathic,
isolation carves the human out of me,
leaves nacked nerves sensitive only to that of the burn,
i’m best left dead when alone,
i’m more than half way there.

I'm light, hapy, feelingless and free.
I am without your simple needs, healthy.
I am content.
But sometimes?
Sometimes I'm reminded you exist
And a bit if your pain comes back.
I want to scream and yell and cry
But its barely an inkling of a need,
Not enough to cause any true purging.
I hate you for making me feel this, tormenting me.
You didn't care you broke my heart,
Made me cry so many times.
You didn't care that no matter how many times I tried you ignored my friendship,
You brushed it off when I mentioned it.
You dont care,
You never did.

But you know what else?
You don't know what you missed.

And while I sit there,
Don't know why I care,
It burns me down
But I will not cry!

Love and lust seen as the same
Who do you trust
Use and abuse one another
Unfaithful to each other
No love just a love
Only emotions through the covers
Truth is none of it's real
Departed shared the feelingless Heart

I've become it......the feeling that has no feel.
No description of this feeling, the manual did not say.
The instructions aren't here, Ive checked it a million times.
Please don't let this be the moment where I wrecked it because I didn't expect this.  

A word that relates to nothing that cannot be elaborated.
This does explain the jumbled mess of thoughts in my mind, thoughts filled with the death and Devine.
Everything is nothing and nothing is everything, no feeling, no reeling the mind.

Devoid of emotion from the subconscious.
Devoid of emotion, my heart does not feel you, can't stop this.
Devoid of emotion from a twisted mind that isn't thoughtless, I haven't got this.
Devoid of emotion, please God won't you just stop this?

I've forgot less that's not a mess **** it I digress into my mind deeper than lochness.
The screams that keep dreams flowing through streams like smooth cream into my coffee darkly beam.
Have I made sense to you yet of my emotion filled regret that hovers over my covers and spills from my mind?
Maybe I haven't gotten that far yet...

The eyes grow weary of a feelingless feeling, cascading how this happened through my mind, my ceiling.
The body has been here before, when a fall to my pillows is all I want in store.
Couldn't eat today though I never felt hunger, I tried but it just wouldn't stay and that's the most I've felt all day.
The day grew long but clearly I have no theory to what brought about a feel with no feeling.

Desensitized from my eyes.
Desensitized from my lies.
Desensitized in every sense of the word.
Desensitized, numb....

.......it's not what I deserve.....


                      Numb.

The dream world built with pack of cards,
Stood always strong with the blessings of lord;

The wind of reality was never to touch,
So strong was the emotional clutch;

Love and faith played hide and seek,
Trying to reach a relation at mountain peak;

The eyes closed with full of dreams,
Never cared to wake up with clues of light beam;

The fairy land lying below the feet,
Started to feel the tremors of reality heat;

The cracks begotten by the tremors,
Let thee to have feelingless quivers;

The heaviness in the air was so strong,
that thou were found in the arms of wrong;

Eyes left wide open with sour and paleness,
Reaching the state of lifeless staleness;

The sea of tears dried up,
Leaving behind the salty death cup;

Before the eyes wake up from the dream,
A divine helping hand showed the path of river stream;

To purify self from the shadows of guilt,
And raise as a new soul rebuilt;

Finding the path between dream world and real world,
the search is on to reach the glory unfurled;

Keeping the packs of cards intact,
the dream world of cards is still on for the soul to reenact.

absent and diminishing
i cannot tell if i am feelingless
or just feeling less
than my previous state

the bomb siren
going off
makes my heart sink
and sends my mind into
panic

my eyes search for the nearest exit
my legs and arms scramble to the door
my ears are tortured by that wailing doom

the wind blows southward
I smell flowers on the breeze
skies are blue and cloudless
there in the distance I can see

I close my eyes then
waiting for…
just waiting.

seconds, minutes, hours,
days were all the same

breathes of animals mixed
with the sighs of the trees
and the world was silent
and blind and feelingless

so long
so long it felt
my eyes and ears and
body shut down waiting

that when it didn’t come
I was not the same man
I had died and yet not died

I cannot pick my heart back up
my mind is always jumping at
the slightest surprises
this will not go on

I just can't

She’s numb
Looking for something, anything
To make her feel something.
Every day feels the same,
There’s no variety,
No excitement,
She’s just living for the day she will finally feel alive again.
Or maybe just living for the day that she won’t live anymore.
Either way, she lives.
She lives for her family,
She lives for her friends,
She lives so that others will too.
She lives.
I really hope she lives.

This means nothing to her anymore,
This waking up,
Eating,
Sleeping,
And repeating.
It’s all just an instinct for her
It no longer feels like each day is new.
It no longer feels like she can live her life to the fullest.
It no longer feels like she can really be truly happy.
It feels like nothingness
There is nothing for her here

She no longer cries
For it does nothing but make her feel worse
She feels less anxious because what’s the point in thinking about things
Nothing is real if you think about it
Your brain is just playing a realistic game
A game of survival
A game of love and loss
The game of life is tough because nobody ever wins.

Pour me another, to recess we go,
Tender the whiskey or beer in my hand
Feelingless furlough with barleycorn glow

Hazard as high as acuity low
Don’t tell my mother, she won’t understand
Pour me another, to recess we go

Scars are enshrouded, contusions don’t show
Hidden the lesions, pretend to be grand
Feelingless furlough with barleycorn glow

Call the Mourne Mountains, and rosin the bow
Rattle the bog and the black velvet band,
Pour me another, to recess we go

Don’t tell my mother, she won’t want to know
Sentiment-soaked more than she could withstand
Pour me another, to recess we go,
Feelingless furlough with barleycorn glow

Is there such thing
as feelingless?
If yes,
where can I have one?

This is the age of tragedy
we are drowned
in the sea of technology-

nothing matters now--only
devices, gadgets, machines, contraptions
that claim: 'We'll make you happy'

This is the age of tragedy
blown over a thousand times Orwellian prophecy
none is free--everyone is subject to the minutest scrutiny

We regard ourselves smart--or supposedly-
but prostrate before that highest authority
faceless, feelingless,  mute,  the ubiquitous and iniquitous LED

This is our self-afflicted tragedy
in our proclamation: ' Progress, progress at any cost'--
we have lost our entire humanity

When you are in tears and your heart is heavy
help is on hand, you won't be lonely
just flick the switch,  browse over Wiki.

I feel like I'm jumping off a cliff
   And no one's there to catch me.
      Everywhere I look you're all I see.
         I can't feel anything; nothing at all.
           Feelingless.
              Emotionless.
                 Numb.
                    You say you love me;
                        But, you don't show it.
                          You say you care;
                             But, I don't know it.
                                I could leave and no one would notice.
                                   Why do I have to feel this way?
                                       Can't I just be okay?
                                             I'm f
                                                     a
                                                        l
     ­                                                     l
          ­                                                  i
                                                              n
                                                                ­g,
                                                              ­        f
                                                       ­             a
                                                  ­                     l
                                                              ­            l
                                                   ­                         i
                                                                ­             n
                                                                ­                g,
                                              ­                                          falling fast,
                                                                ­                          falling hard.

                                                          ­                                                          
                                                                ­                                                    

                                                               ­                                                       Someone notice before it's too late.

Colorless sky,
     Greenless trees,
     Lifeless flowers;

No fragrant wind,
     No salty sea,
     No fresh rain;

Tasteless vanilla,
      Sourless lemons,
      Sweetless cheesecake;

No loud rock,
      No soothing violin,
      No smooth jazz;

Feelingless touch,
      Softless kiss,
      Tenderless hug.

Here we are again, lights off on your bed
And I'm convinced there's nothing more
meaningless than words strung together
They don't make any sense
Here we are again with your hands around my neck
And I'm content to let you go feelingless
like words strung together
They don't make any sense

But there's a difference between loving something useless and letting its
uselessness be what you love
It's dark in these rooms, but between me and you
I'd rather never leave any one
Because even though I cannot see, I've never felt more at home
Than when I cannot breathe
And when I am not shown
the things that can make me bleed, I'd rather
Cut up my throne
I'd rather be all alone

Here we are again, killing with a deadly pen
And I'm offended you thought I'd be reading this
Your words are strung together
They don't make any sense
Here you are my friend, a free man's head
But I confess, it's not the bearer of solace
His head is strung together
He does not make sense

~

Here we are again, we seem to start at the end
And I must digress, the blood on the wall is not red
The words are strung together
They don't make any sense
So once more my friend, I really do regret
But I won't forget the fateful story that begins in bed
The words are strung together
They will never make sense

The love that the tumultuous lover failed to create is the cause of all this hot flux, perhaps he should revise his tune. What we see in his promises is just glamor. I always told him to break free from tumultuous love. I told him that evening, and I was very serious; messing with bright promises is frightening. In fact, he knew that his tumultuous love made him a weightless ghost. It's now motionless and feelingless, and you can imagine what the bustle would be without the flavor of excitement. Yes, you can imagine that; It's really a strange thing.

Its the kind of love that makes you think he's the only one for you and his feelings are real and sincere.  While he keeps you blinded by his lies and broken promises of a happy future together.
While the world watches you change slowly into a cold feelingless creature. Never seeing the light of truth and real love again.  Always living in the shadow of love and leaving you in fear of being loved by anyone else.
Making you to become a monster by playing the same games and leaving a trail of tears and lies that were being feed to you.  Never wanting to find true love.  Just keeping all the pain and hurt deep down inside.
knowing that praying for help to save your life is useless because no ones listening.  You shut out everyone that cared about you for the vampire love. Now your looking at the future and all you see is nothing but pain and agony.

There is a monster that causes disease to ones heart.
Fame is a drug that slowly kills you
One dosage brings the fuel the monster needs to make it's start.
Family is forgotten and changed to your status crew.
Although you are wanted by many
You are surrounded by the feelingless few.
After the high ends and the moments start to become more empty
Your heart becomes harder to satisfy
So you shall need more thrills and this drug called "plenty."
Your mind wanders to the past and you start to wonder where your true self did go
Now the curtain rises
Time for another show.

they observed the world
like it was to end tomorrow.
from people
to plants
to kittens roaming the streets
to them.
them: feelingless boys.
boys of no observing nature..
passing by like unwanted pulp.
whispering about them like no end
only to have another observe them.

held onto your hands,
When you faltered,
Even though they were,
Only dust and fire,
And let you singe,
An abyss through my broken veins.

You left me there,
Bleeding under a lamppost,
When I stared up into its pale light,
And wondered if I have enough pain,
To flow it through tears because,
Even though you left me, I couldn't cry.

Instead I scream into the stillness,
of this never ending moment,
Speak words that,
No one knows anymore,
In concrete whispers,
That unravels into a broken stutter.

I'll drown into depths of something,
That is unknown to me,
Just to feel the terror,
Because since the fall,
I haven't felt anything,
It scares me to think I'm feelingless.

Because it's the dead,
Who don't feel anything,
Because their nerves disintegrate,
Like brittle prices of art scattered on tiled floor,
And their hearts are meshed into sand,
And they can't return, can't live,

It scares me that they can't breathe,
But I'll touch them through thoughts,
And my obliterated wishful thinking,
I'll touch them through my memories,
It's nothing but illusions that seem real,
I'll have to remind myself, I'm still alive.

I might not see next sunrise,
This unsettling unsureness,
Tingling my fingertips,
In nervous floods and
Chaotic landslides,
Forever potent in my blood.

But at last I've learned to live every moment,
Because I can dance in arms of sunlight,
When they're saying  she's dancing alone,
They're saying she's insane,
Because I laugh at sky because it's raining,
I can hear the thunder telling me, that I seem alive.

I'll touch the rainbow through,
My color-splattered canvas,
I could hold a fluorescent star,
And can you see?
I can break the stars,
From that infinite blue sky.

I can empty my memories into an ocean,
And see them sifting through sand,
Drifting in high tides and undecided waves,
See, your memory is among those too,
It's time I turn away and never turn back,
I know this because the moon told me.

I calculate their smiles for confused looks,
When they tell me I've gone crazy,
I can tell them I live more than they ever have.
They don't know what is living,
Every moment like it's the last one.
I know, because I'm alive, I'm alive, I'm alive.

Why thought this?
I am floating in daily lush.
I see the dream.
No more dawn anymore,
And I can't really do it.
The other world is dragging.
The lush is the only way.
Who knows
That's not the rain.
Eyesight thirst
That is the pain which feels in the breath.
Why is thirsty next to the spring?
Fire companion, why not burn?
I understand,
Sleep is blind?
Where the interest is!
I do not know, maybe selfish!
I can't do this anymore .
Hope-chillum now with me!
Wash again!
Silence!be silence.
Far from here!it's seems,
Feelingless beauty.
Searching way,

But my religion
bears no name
it's the sum-total
of what I am

never in public view
none's there to judge
me in my nakedness
nor my reputation to smudge

do I dwell
in the light
or covered with
the blackness of night?

do I need
to supplicate
plead for things
to celebrate?

I stumbled
and I fell
my struggles
none could tell

face-to-face
as confronted
in the mirror
am I comforted

or do I choose
that image to change
as it's not what I expected
alien, cold, feelingless and strange?

life stays apart
it takes no side
religion is that
which I create inside.

I do have a blue bird,
He is shy or feelingless can't be expressed in word.
If I do love him, he remains in hiding,
Again looks sad when I stop loving.

He feels happy when I am sad,
He shows how intensely he is glad.
Is the bird consequence of my vice?
I cry and cry but to him it's so nice.

Is he the outcome of my vice or virtue done unknowinly?
My desert Sahara is transformed into a rainforest suddenly.
How can I tolerate this innundating rain?
Why are clouds so busy to make greenery with pain?

O cloud! Please stop stop this constant downpour,
Please stop this strike of water, this cruel roar.
I know it's not real but spell of sorcery,
Can water extinguish my inner blazing and misery?

"There are more important things than living,"
Said Dan Patrick° back in 2020.
His words, of course, were feelingless and shocking,
But people who agree with him are plenty.

Although Patrick's words were focused on
COVID at the time, it is clear
That folks out there will use his argument
To justify the guns that they hold dear.

We can see that certain politicians
And their supporters clearly are the ones
Who've made the choice that life is less important
Than having their huge arsenal of guns.

An epidemic--one of violence--
Pervades this country. Watch the killings surge.
The Second Amendment, misinterpreted,
Contributes in a big way to the scourge.

Doubtless there are certain regulations
That would likely help protect us all,
But people who oppose our taking action
Fight such regulations with a squall.

Our thoughts or prayers will NOT revive the dead.
If people are afraid of making waves,
And if the situation stays the same,
We'll be putting flowers on more graves.

We MUST attempt to end the senseless shootings.
People must stand up and make demands.
Those who scoff at intervention have
The blood of many victims on their hands.

-by Bob B (7-6-23)

°Texas Lt. Governor