the
wick flickers or time is stillness such rapture to sense sincerity. but it
hurts it devastates where alienation is solitude. you die beautifully you feel
inadequate plus such secrets to hide. so tense or serious where gods might be
on your side. it was angels knitting or demons barbequing or some elflike
distraction; to have lived in her love to have someone to latch on to while
life becomes salacious or difficult or unsteady. as nevertheless our cured
essence our remedy hearts where it feels so natural to hurt; such depression or
rather high while mother is heavy with gloom; the balance of the addiction
those miracles in dungeons while it was once so hectic. so giddy so happy while
into a steep slumber; such rest such hassle if but a curse too livid: father
gone mother liquid or best friend a life unbecoming. so many oils such lighted
wicks while I compose to a wall. maybe it helps by fury of a rose where essence
the scent of begonias. I would love in order as to claim by spirit a child
while needing more; so cut asunder so anti-father while begging becomes some
type of torture. to expect groveling with nothing to give while a person is
left with his begging.
I leave or left where pain became
ripe. some sentient element where those are unwanted while one cleaves to her
own; but nothing is uncertain or nothing is hectic plus we have done our best!
this is great consolation but lesbianism might be genetic complicated by
external factors. or maybe it’s by selection a dear preference where men are
sickening. somewhere to locate you somewhere to understand you but truth be
said, I’m not concerned with that, as much as its impetus its catapults. so few
questions while looking into presence while most just need confidants: those
deep-telling eyes, or depression made energy, if but to live, where I worry
over certain realities.
