Deny we the possibility of order
Ignore we an Outside Law
Suggest we an endless possibility
Worlds without end
Positions simultaneous
Moving in all directions or none
Claim we the future as ours

Defy we realities of law external
Look we inward-outward simultaneously
To become one or none or all
Reject a single story
Saw we the Arms from Truth
Reduce we the Other to I

Forget we the order of Universes
Without-Within
The clockwork structures
Atomic
Celestial
Genetic
Physical
Biological
In and or-ganic

Reorder or Retell we the Cyclical Tales
Birth and Rebirth
Seasons and Times
Journeys of stars swirling through space
Endless flights of planets
Endless migrations of living things
Each rhyming to universal rhythms
Watts and amperes circular-linear mysteries
Predicting futures from their undisputed histories

Deny we external truth
Held here in the gracious grasp of gravity
Warmed gently by a tolerant star
Inhabitants of a universe
Unable to explain itself
Or even how its atoms came
To repel and to attract
In perfect tensions
Or to unleash energies
Predictable and measurable
In milliseconds and millenniums

---------------------------

Marionettes macabre
Cut loose from our strings
Dancing slowing dirges
Proclaiming opening spaces
Beneath closed skies
Denying a Maker
Rejecting hymnody to sing
Ditties laden with lies.

5TH Grade
The last day
A reporter asked
What have you to say
Of this final day
And I stated:
"We are the kings and queens
And next year we will be nothing"
And that was the last time
I learned something
Constructive
In the structuring
Of a school building

As i shape stanzas, Adam Lanzas **** the cameras, in glamorous stands up, against the manners of actors, in the matters of forgotten factors, in a world gone bananas, I still cant stand us, even when we are dead.

I have tried every side of the bed to no diligence unchecked, in a nervous wreck of annoyance coining in and destroying it, for a bonus, its bogus to know us, but i'm owning it yet, with no regrets and loose concepts to be swept to *****, and on my feet.

I'm obsolete, and my talk is cheaper than most, as i host my feats in a single page, post heathen faze incomplete, as it is only so lonely in the frozen face of flattery, where i may fill my battery, but nothing more, in boring affordability, storing dreams for safe keeping to a later day that may never be, but hey, what does it matter anyway, i will either be, or not be.

I may be just lapsing in luxury, rupturing the subtlety of my structuring around the scars of brain parts too far to reach.

Lets meet on middle grounds with silent screams and loose eyes, fiddling the sounds and singing for the criers, expiring behind less than inspiring doors.

I am just bored, praising the lords of a more recordable source, reliably on course, with a deplorable force, endorsing the chores of servitude, never meaning to be rude, as i enjoy my solitude, while in the employ of the gratitude for what i got, but im not...

That boy anymore, my wonder turned wandering and i will never be that baby again, nor alone, so let go, in knowing the flow can be trusted in showing us something more, said the slave to his *****, before a morbid torrent to show her core to the floor of a showroom, vacuumed into space, awakening to the fate, of monotonous finality, praying to randomly generated gods, for the fogs of war... or anthing more, than this.

I've been getting too busy
Structuring words and doubts
Still counting my money while
Relationships burn out
Like cherries that flicker
Away with the wind and
I'm still not convinced
That this death is the end, but
I'm scared of the clock, look
Checking accounts on lock, been
Spending time on the lot, been
Pushing the good paper,
Hoping my flow doesn't rot
Like this body I'm caged in
Then you're gone like a thot that
You thought you could use when
Your bloods running hot and
Steam floats from the faucet
Wash your hands of the particles
But soaps a slippery ***** when
You forget where you came from.

All we are is nothing but a blanket covering the world.
Nothing more than a piece of clothing covering its ******.
We are a split second in the handles of a clock;
the sole whim within the imagination of reality.
An sporadic ****** when riding what we so call life,
but it doesn't really last enough to take another ride.
Our skins are filled with nothing but pure lust
and our bones are only nothing more than dust.

We are a mere heartbeat within the world's heart.
The blink of an eye within the history of humanity.
We are one more pattern in a sequence that never ends.
The fading echo of the voices of society's insanity.
We are the vague flashback of a future we will never live.
A small particle of water in a falling raindrop.
The modifying adjective structuring a sentence of our story.
The rush to the eye of a single fallen teardrop.

What else are we but the literal meaning of nothing?
The same kind of nothing which ignorance finds in art.
We brought nothing to the world but our own life
and nothing but life we will be taking when we depart.
We were born and built out of nothing
and so nothing shall then be our ending;
Nothing, as flowers when they are withered;
Nothing else, shall we ever be considered.

A lengthy poem has smaller hits
but the author can push through the gist
of inerrant musings of the soul
until he bleeds pus in the sole.

Never meant to cause any disturbance
unless my words bother you like flatulence.
to gain a thought is to make a mind queasy
albeit structuring words to poems is not that easy.

I FEEL PRETTY...OH SO...PRETTY!

I a...
...wake

covered in glorious glitter
smelling strongly of PVA glue

sticking to my cheek
very

hung
over

& covered in blueorange
yellowred feathers

a bubble
recently blown

perched upon
my nose

I...still....half coma...tose

tiny bubbles travel
amongst my curls

as through
a bigger bubble brightly

nestling neatly
over my right eye

I observe
my tiny daughter

purse her lips
& kiss

more bubbles
into being.

“Till...y! ”

I force my lips
(still frozen in sleep)

to some
how speak:

“What...you...do? ”

(even my syntax and sentence structuring is shot)

She smiles sweetly: “I’m
...pretty-ing you! ”

Scared,  to let the words die, he hid, amid the languid luxuries of solitary structuring, lavished of the jaded and anguished lines, for lines melodrama, of the deviled days, of state, of mind, in fate, in kind, of the nether commas, devoid in honest ignorance of written words, dying on the caterpillars, cocooned, in all that's assumed, lost, in metamorphosis, never knowing this, is a dream, within a dream, of hope, clinging with stinging fingertips, ears ringing in the ripplits of a synesthesic pulse of visual signals, subliminally sounding the sirens, of solidarity, in the silent screams, of the sun rising, writhing in wanton seduction of my functions laying the heartened words of dead birds, falling from the sky, hardened in sloven cries, to justify, the means, tapping out on the screens, of a misnomer, a loner, in a coma, phoning you from the corner to warn ya, of the storm, in words prone to patience, in imaginit immaculance of the limitless limits, of livid lovers loving each-others lullabies, lolly-gagging in the illegibility, of our lucidity in the pity of leveled lofts, lovely-ly, levitating in elevating thought, fraught with passionate poetry, of ghostly words, blurred in the debilitating reasoning of reasonable reason, seasonally.

It was time to do some re - structuring
In - house changes were necessary to bring
about better performance, modernization
otherwise we'd be left behind with no motion

He spent his time leaning on a *****
doing nothing, not good enough we're afraid
then a quiz programme with as much charisma
as a wet fish - now we wouldn't want to be churlish

However, contract has expired, you're fired
from your duties - we're moving on to new things
anything must be better than what dullness brings
we may not use your services again -going

'Well gentlemen, that's another one gone
who shall we get rid of next so long.'

I FEEL PRETTY...OH SO...PRETTY!

I a...
...wake

covered in glorious glitter
smelling strongly of PVA glue

sticking to my cheek
very

hung
over

& covered in blueorange
yellowred feathers

a bubble
recently blown

perched upon
my nose

I...still....half coma...tose

tiny bubbles travel
amongst my curls

as through
a bigger bubble brightly

nestling neatly
over my right eye

I observe
my tiny daughter

purse her lips
& kiss

more bubbles
into being.

“Till...y! ”

I force my lips
(still frozen in sleep)

to some
how speak:

“What...you...do? ”

(even my syntax and sentence structuring is shot)

She smiles sweetly: “I’m
...pretty-ing you! ”

Our galaxy, a ship, speeding into the depths, of deep space, a casualty in permit, heeding the concepts, of our place, in space-less mass, glimmering from the cast, of gods, even from the cracks and smog, we move along the path, of our intent, hell bent to extend our wrath, upon the woes of men, unknown to the myriad angles, in the dangled essence, of the limitless blessings, in the finite structuring, of negative nothings, filling our hearts of imagination, manifesting, in our epiphanies recollections, of days gone, but came back to be, born freely, looping infinitely, simultaneous, in every possibility of personally realized realities, realizing themselves in sunless helms of technology, merging with the organics of our being, and seeding, the start of everything.

Growth prevaded by a soil of emotions, rain of memories engraving the seed for a flower awaiting to bloom, the gift of life in a moving motion of time, forming and structuring the inner beauty of one,
Over years the spring of this beauty blossoms depending on the deeds, deepest wishes such as kindness and intuitions majestically,
A righteous soul will truly stand proud in the sun, alike a helianthus,
A trecious persons flower will be dead, as if it was drought, burnt in the heat of summer, the sweet aroma of life will still fill the air,
Caught in endless change of a devils distorted, desperate working,
The servants have the chance to either change for the better or to be ruined in their transient existence, fading into the dust they came of,
Beauty cast in the heart remains forever with enough care and work,
So this flower shall never rot, as long as it is protected with a desire and will to do good, to be gentle and truthful, thoughtful and wise,
Compassion, greatness and deep loving concern are a fertilizer,
Spread this kindness and you may have planted the seed for another beautiful child of the earth; A precious flower

~ Umi

I don’t know how to feel about anything anymore,
I just don’t,
It’s neither here nor there,
Not hidden just never gotten to,
I can never fully open up to anyone,
But then again who really can?

Sometimes I feel empty,
But I soon remind myself how selfish it is to feel that way,
How much suffering there is in the world,
How much I have to be thankful for,
But it’s not the things I have that make me happy,
It’s the people I know and the connections I have.

The only sadness I harness commences from the loss of human contact,
With the loss of a friend,
Being away from family,
Feeling like we’ll never be the same again,
No matter what it’s like I can always be to blame,
For something.

For not stopping what’s wrong,
For not doing what’s right,
It’s always a matter of what’s next,
Who’s next.

Sometimes I feel tears coming on,
But I don’t let them come out,
My chest tightens,
I feel weak; and the sick cycle perpetuates.

But I know it’s nothing out of the ordinary,
Everyone must feel this way,
All people are the same,
I wish they would realize that.

Maybe I am an idealist,
But at least I have a vision,
A vision similar to King’s,
More demanding but less articulated,
I have a dream that one day everything will be ok,
Everything.
I know that can happen.

But they say I’m different,
They mean it in a good way,
So I take it as a compliment,
I’m too shy to ask for clarification,
In fear that I might seem conceited,
Asking to hear more about myself,
Today though, I asked.

He said it’s because I’m not like anyone else,
Well. That certainly didn’t answer my question,
And even if it did, it didn’t make me feel any better,
After all everyone is different from everyone else.

No one thinks the same way,
No one has all the same experiences,
Nor do they formulate the same reactions or reflections,
I believe that if I had started dictating these thoughts a millisecond before or after I did, that they would be completely different,
Not because my thoughts would be changing,
Rather because the kaleidoscope of our minds are always tumbling,
Rolling around,
Re-structuring,
Not in a good way or a bad way.

Ocean...
Deep and unexplored to the fullest...
Your that racket in my head I can't get out, foolish...
We mess around, wishing we could make *** a reality...
But In reality, the realness of our vibe turns fable into fact...
In fact, it's only your ocean that keeps me in tact...
Rhyming words is easy, but structuring words about you is the most complex...
Things form in my mind I cannot explain...
Something like the deep dark monsters that ponder at the bottom...
Your coral reef cuts deep, I still choose to walk, even when love blisters my feet...
Ocean...
Repeat, repetitive times you tell me you love me...
Your waves of effort connect with my heart ever so electric...
Eel at the surface of the water, creep, creep, you watch as I make my way towards you...
Knowing I might fall on my face...
I continue the steps because I have faith you'll catch me...
With no glove, you still manage to protect me...
Raw as un-cooked gets, firing soul through each other's anatomy...
Head to your toe, I admire...
Ocean...the only thing that has me drowning...
Your the definition of my holes...
The same answer that filled them up

Leap to see where they bring you when you do exactly what everyone does
Go to see where the bronzed and shiny, the blonde and skinny, the buff and the beautiful, the catchy things sleep here, it's all about the trend and the he said this she said that magazines plastering a wallpaper of celebs and what's-hot on the interior walls structuring my mind
do they feed on your self confidence too?
They crush youth and make believe that caring will be the death of them, that a soul gets ripped free of it's shackles everytime something genuine and real happens, something naked and imperfect, something totally weird and not what you'd say is the norm, here now, won't you see me as I am? It's progressive to be a little bit different now?
What else do they say to you when you are breathless and sighing on the ground- we all see when things are wrong, but everyone here is so small when the big man wants their money and their cars and things, it's easier to have nothing but the stuff that is shoved down our throats has become something everyone needs.

This is possible.
Soul possession in owned patience, no mortgage,
no refi,
pieced together idle words,
used and abused, reused
food for thought
gleaned and horded patience.
All redeemed, for full worth in your eye.

What all we know, forms, in patience
fire,
for instance,
not long ago, you know, fire
was
craft, the making of it, was magic
as anything
witnessed, seen and attested to by two
or twelve or twenty, however many

five hundred, okeh, 500 miles walking,
while 2 seemed too far,
patience, life is a test, you are the best at
resisting
the gottabe this
way
mine,
my child, my future seed sown, grown wild,
twisted
espelliered, oh so, there was a wall
around the garden, which
was there for a reason
in the story,

oh, so many stories in ever are untold.
s'cool, we got contingency mods

we are ready, right? You read a whole lot to be
ready, when now happens

as if the story took a million years to arrive at
now, your page, or chapter, or name, just

your name, after your ears fell off, there
you found it, in the bibliography of the book of life

as listed in the amazon cloud. Chronos order.

First test to ever after now, what is the Gebser handle on it?
The Ever-Present Origin.

-- stop flash 2021 link to the as youwere a mazda, the name,
thing spread-winged thing on a wheel with a stiffened spiral,
****** media image in ever now, that symbol, bird with too wide wings
on a unicycle with spiral spokes in some
iterations, then
leafing branch tree structuring shape
spokes
in a wheel in a wheel,
gears and wheels to balance time and worth
the ef- fort if I can okeh
I kan das  sig gefun den
dat
dare
straight center outer way oomphala always starts
in any seed or ideal encompassing all the information needed
the zoroastrian symbol is related… at the avian level of sci-use, lizard brain, where t-cells train,
art instituted entertain ment, tthis is us sorta
see the totem, see the flag, see the fire, see us dance
see the shadows,
those dance too.

to form a piece of every theory of everything with words in it.
Word.
We be all that ever matters, at moments like this.
Doncha love the cheesiness,
ripe, , message
says
it still smells like food.
Stomach rumbles, there is a word for that, bunny trail,
brain bubble,
been there done that and the whole gang from 10-18, the novel,

all of em, Notacrook, the whole cast, on that stage
in this book of my life with you in it.

We can work some wonders with 2014 tec + the connection
Ai ai ai, I say, I love to say I love living now

time is as always, changing, to the beat of my own tin drum.
We won.
We do not study war, we study life, and life is a story all its own.

---------------------


Pure, mere realm of mind in time
immaterial ever origin fin ginfinginfingin
imagine
an engine that starts
but but but you never knew such things were known

as common sensed events, shadows shown on walls
for all the seers, in the shade of this wall
arising in the book of life I am involving in my solution…

FTA… to this day it does mean find the answer,
but you can reinterpret am-big-u-is-us words say
FTA always think first first to attack, sir

it means, first to attack, t' me.

soon's I see the whites of those eyes comin' up my
bunker's hill,
if I have to -- glitch have hold to of -- must say
he's too old to cuss the mustard any more,
let all the seed blowwildwisht away

Peace, in my time. DID I imagine this?
In a way, I did, I think.
I made a way this could happen, and it did,
because I did not do something wrong
at one of the right times to do
something in the former
time-state-stage e re en
volvement in humus re-entropication, getting old
maturing adul-tatifity
this idea of dying, so slow
I can see trees grow, and the crow in the momma pine
musta died, he never came back after that last big ******
in february, I think, around the time
my house ate a tab of acid, 2021.

Tep. Yep. could be we stretch a point and make some
thing be
real enough to feel if there was a 10 wpm to 2 or 3 each
breath
or beat of your heart, as mine
stops
- thinks back to the ori-gin fin gin
- point
- spark
in the stretching, on the rack, you know the image, stretch
FREEDOM
splat.

Not that. This realm of timeless reason being.

Thinking iferies you must imagine
or not sense, not sense as non
presence
in time to glimpse the if that winks at you and laughs,

you saw, says this other, joy-driven, you can feel it,
feel it, this is
eu-daemonical ha, I knew it, we have a recipe for this,
I wrote it down

---------- but this works if you stir it in with the rest
at the end of your last war, you can make a fine rest
with just this little bit of patience built by reading this, twice.

Gawking at the screen
I convene here
What words should I accumulate?
Tonight
Vocabulary building up
Structuring the tallest and widest of sentences
One hand, I hold a dictionary
At the desk,Is my thesaurus
Matching wits with myself
How do I use partial vowels?
Grammar mostly perplex
To a perfect sentence
No other quotations is near
An average line is over due
What imprison me from being incomplete?
An unexplainable sentence
Of writing
On a foggy Monday
As I awaken
By touching
A blank sheet of paper

It's time, I think
I'm ready?
How do I know for sure?
Laying on this bed with
emotions flowing through my mind;
What if I'm not ready?
A long breath fills up my
mouth as I realized what I
wanted to do.
"Let's do it." I said.

Did I just say that out loud?
I started to tremble,
scared of the pain, the pleasure,
the thought of it.
I started to feel his touch,
as he went straight to it.
Kissing me softly, I feel his
warmth, tingling my senses.
What is this feeling?
Why am I acting up?
Still scared but not wanting
it to stop.

The slow, soft feeling
started to increase rapidly,
as I felt his kiss shifting
all over my body.
Lick, the feeling of licking,
excited me.
It started to sting my body
marking its place
as I felt the fading
of the mist it left on
my smooth skin.
I lay there taking in the pleasures
he fulfilled,
the warmth of his sweet lips.

What is happening?
I started to breathe with
such force as he started
to feel the mist with
his fingers.
Slowly structuring my body
with his hand, his touch.
I felt imprisoned by his touch
and as I took in his delicious scent,
I was paralyzed once more.
A prisoner of my own heart
I let him take over me,
caressing me and pleasuring me
in ways that I never thought possible.

My heart, now beating out of my chest
I knew what was next or so i thought;
I tried to prepare myself mentally
taking deep breaths, somewhat panting.
Panting as i close my eyes,
squeezing it, as questions flowed
in my mind.
What will it feel like?
How will i react..
I already couldnt control myself,
feeling weak all over,
as he had me under his spell,
under his control.
What is happening?

There was no turning back now
I had already dug myself in way too deep;
I decided i'd take control,
as our lips danced our positions changed
I was the one on top now.
I had the power and as his eyes rolled back
I knew that it was satisfying.
A triumph of song started to
come through our voices,
louder and louder it gradually
formed.
Reacting in a way i never thought
I would be able to do.
The reflexes i had,
resulted in a new person in me.
Ssassy and passionate it indeed was.
Singing through the movement of
the wind.

I felt as though our hearts were now beating as one,
our souls connected through this intimate action
it was perfect, beautiful and amazing beyond words
I didn't want it to end, we were now in our own world
nothing else mattered, it was just me and him
two bodies, two hearts, intwined together to fuse
the perfect passion, the perfect love.
A love forming into an excitement
a feeling of pressure, and great pleasure
it yanked me out of my mind
becoming loose and feeling something,
something weird, something I've never felt before
faster, we moved, the wind blowing through
the flow.
What was entering my system, what has my body
engaged in creating.

With no control my body started asking
for more, more pleasure,
as it once more increased its speed.
our songs turning into screams now,
as the pressure was getting too much.
Too much for both of us, too much
to handle in one gesture.
"I think it's coming." he said
coming!? what's coming?
I started to panic,
what am i supposed to do?
But still, my body didnt want to stop,
it was ready for it,
but my mind was still frightened.
He started to concentrate on the movement,
pulling my body onto his, forcing me,
exciting me.

He started to growl, realizing
that it was coming.
I prepared myself as he pulled me
once more, with great pressure,
it got me to a surprise, as he held me tight
having the flow gradually separating in me.
We collapsed, side by side, breathing hard
in one sound.

We were both breathless but satisfied.
We lay there, without a single word leaving our lips
we knew that it was the beginning of forever
as we lay there, eternity seemed to pass over us
nestling my head into his neck
I breathed in his scent once more
and whispered soft words into his ear
this was it, he was the one
and then we fell asleep, embraced in eachothers arms.

Whos the man with the master plan
With a wand in his hand
Understand divisions stands
Over unison they be the devils son
Mad the blueprint on Jekyll Island
1910 fews years later
Catastrophe struck in
Feds was created birth date were initiated
Recorded on scriptures
See the picture
Cloned us and loaned us
As slaves to the corporate field
Cant make cuz my endz break
But say just wait
Great things will come if
You put in your mind state
But that **** dont work
Everyday hustling
Only to be left struggling
Times is juggling
Disaster structuring
Over our very lives
And the run to church for lies
When they all apart of the
The american pie
Keep you dumb down and head to the ground all around
You see satellites taking pictures
Of a false heaven
Nothing but projectors images
World is a hologram
And reality is an illusion
Tactics made for confusion
People arguing over
Whos wrong whos right
When the rich folks set the sight
Following man made institutions
I couldn't take it
So i let the pistols began shooting
Intellect lootin'
We in deep need of a substitution
Cuz this world aint my home
I wasnt born to pay bills s
And die
P
Lift my hands to the sky
And God will multiply?
But thats lie
Ya just caught in a spiritual tie
Emotions vs logic Americans so **** lethargic
Regarldess
If truth is in the front of the  battlefield
Most will run behind the lines of lie
And be a defense shield
Instead of using conscious mind
Free will????????

Ambiguously, he was boggled, beguiled by garbled goggles while giggling out the squiggles, to wiggle the signals free.

Deliberately dallying in the Plato piety of proprietary philosophies, he, dastardly deemed, disaster to be, damaging, to the laughter in the chatter of the baggage handlers to another plane.

Manhandler of a plastered paradise, partly in slices, of silly little vices of sacrifices, that shall suffice with vice grips on the lips of the negative with the spices of nicety.

Lavished in lividly living uP the misgivings of lesserly lessons, blessing the blasphemy, in passionate tuck ins, snuck in, upon drunken hunkering in the bunkers of spunkier spiels.

Languid longevity's of luscious lettering, lest will we, count our kills, never ever to leave a life festering in lectured structuring, besting the busy debuts, of flukless frugality, lucidly, counting the calories of calamity, and randomly rhyming without reason in season-less rain clouds, only allowed to put the umbrella away, and fade in play to the part, where we impart patience on the persona from the coma of commonality.

Immaculately conceived, perceived as a ***** who adores hollow hearts, as we, haphazardly heap on the hilarity, in hepatidal waves, through fazes of the common wealth.

Smile in stealth, love no one else, but self and end up in health, at a lonely age in staged stimuli, reminding me why i'm alive, and not allowed to die, while on rewind through the hard times, to smile on the last lines of laser driven lifelines, laughing at the fragile signs on the finer wines, as they break on the bowes of holy boats in bouts against the sea.

Spewing randomly, he, finds satisfactory solutions to the strengthening of his constitution in loosened blue spells, to dispel his ruthless tendrils from your ears.

The fears fueling the finality in his fractured mentality of maniacal travesties laughing at me.

Its just me, unjustly adjusting for the combustion of the build.

Its lovely here.

Laughing in the lashes.

Signing my entrapment's.

Lapsing out the masses and forming from the ashes of smashed happiness, as it unclasps before my eyes.

Sometimes

It just feels right to be alive.

Ambiguously, he was boggled, beguiled by garbled goggles while giggling out the squiggles, to wiggle the signals free.

Deliberately dallying in the Plato piety of proprietary philosophies, he, dastardly deemed, disaster to be, damaging, to the laughter in the chatter of the baggage handlers to another plane.

Manhandler of a plastered paradise, partly in slices, of silly little vices of sacrifices, that shall suffice with vice grips on the lips of the negative with the spices of nicety.

Lavished in lividly living uP the misgivings of lesserly lessons, blessing the blasphemy, in passionate tuck ins, snuck in, upon drunken hunkering in the bunkers of spunkier spiels.

Languid longevity's of luscious lettering, lest will we, count our kills, never ever to leave a life festering in lectured structuring, besting the busy debuts, of flukless frugality, lucidly, counting the calories of calamity, and randomly rhyming without reason in season-less rain clouds, only allowed to put the umbrella away, and fade in play to the part, where we impart patience on the persona from the coma of commonality.

Immaculately conceived, perceived as a ***** who adores hollow hearts, as we, haphazardly heap on the hilarity, in hepatidal waves, through fazes of the common wealth.

Smile in stealth, love no one else, but self and end up in health, at a lonely age in staged stimuli, reminding me why i'm alive, and not allowed to die, while on rewind through the hard times, to smile on the last lines of laser driven lifelines, laughing at the fragile signs on the finer wines, as they break on the bowes of holy boats in bouts against the sea.

Spewing randomly, he, finds satisfactory solutions to the strengthening of his constitution in loosened blue spells, to dispel his ruthless tendrils from your ears.

The fears fueling the finality in his fractured mentality of maniacal travesties laughing at me.

Its just me, unjustly adjusting for the combustion of the build.

Its lovely here.

Laughing in the lashes.

Signing my entrapment's.

Lapsing out the masses and forming from the ashes of smashed happiness, as it unclasps before my eyes.

Sometimes

It just feels right to be alive.