All in the same,
are we all in this game? Mad, crazy, driven insane, can't swerve out of the lane. Conflicting membranes they say, "<-- This way --> That way." All to claim the same name, just to start a new game, again, and again. What to do? No options, just a catch-22.
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The taste of gratitude,
drove her towards you, satisfied sweet tooth. Adrenaline rushed through, the feel of something new, the feeling of feeling you. She thought she knew, she thought she knew. 'Twas just a ruse, 'twas nothing new. Emitting vibes,
airy and false. Rectify, rectify, innards turn and toss. Burrowing into depths, that of which cannot be reached. Cannot be heard, cannot be found, for it's too late, cannot be teached. You will hear, at least once, of a "blissful ignorance". Fear though, to discount, As pleasant Utopia may seem. For you and I will carry on, with such rare confidence. |
Sydne Kilberg"She never looked nice. She looked like art, and art wasn't supposed to look nice; it was supposed to make you feel something." Archives
February 2016
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