those
eras in segments lost as dungeons if but to grow. so sentimental or lacking
solid connection where reality appears so foggy. so tentative such darkness so
acute so free. an interior dinosaur some alien/extinct creature, while most are
unable to give full empathy. something is just wrong the apple isn’t perfect
those feelings are factual. we apply credence to feelings while neglecting
their inherent properties or disavowing anything one says: the empty ceiling
those bland walls or carpet by touch, it fathoms lowness.
those
years so unclaimed so filled by adults so much delivered into bastilles. or
made categorically where it was a scream before it became a nightmare. such a
sunbird, so much a creature, so much earthward—an on switch so uncharged where
most go through shifts—such sewing so much it gives while circumspect or overly
a lone space; memories on repeat or intestines knotted, such observed
absurdities; the reaping of havoc the destitute abandonment in which both
parents have betrayed essence—the action of the purpose such deliberate
behavior where exoneration is often demanded …
such
a drastic trauma-kit such souls inflamed by stages where one is sly asking
society to turn away.
raw
emotion or uncooked stressors such wires severing goodness—to ask for
forgetfulness to need obligation where one is indefinable pain—such roots so much
a need while depleted by human failures. so, letting go is mythic in a benthic reservoir
so many mental photographs as needing trust or buffering, receiving rusty
intimacy. damn close to nihilistic or running some grand leap, while one might
see that person we hide.
