Let me tell you (a)bout some thoughts of mine When you don't feel like the fish but feel like the brine. Zeds in your head, your own lying, white tongue- Salivated contemplations while tomorrows deeds are waiting to be done. Started, began, woo'd; In positive respects continued. Without the act of the deed ensued. If all needs are ignored and it just sits mute.
More breaths are passing and time adheres. Changes were peril and holding back tears. Like an empty mans' jaw at an old lovers funeral. It feels too comfortable. Do you remember beautiful?The nightmare ride again, again. A peaceful moment was a scream and a pen and I'm grazing here with a thought of then. there's but one avenue to end.
Pixelated, I created, A dead parade and sat there waiting. Waiting for what? I don't know. Imagination. Oh no! All these possibilities, Inclusive trivialities. Dreams transpose to flesh. Surprised that my soul is left.
Clarity, disparity. First thing in the morning. When the sun outside is eclipsed by the blinds, my loneliness is sordid. The ghost ship, abandoned brig with its soul-less creak is boarding. Comfort can't stay in this dead parade for I was busy snoring.
An actress is a woman who, if you aint talking about her, aint listening. I'm a warrior at the head of the battle with the blood-cry missing. I think I forgot about the predator. Yes, I felt concerned that I was missing her. I just remembered myself to the ringing of an old brass bell.