Roll over and vex my soul insist on a lashed up deviant
corpse of rot life. Make amends to ensure bursting at the seams of the next hopscotch
misfired lie. Trying to weasel trail blaze tunneling tunneling into the midst
of smoky horror hall of reflected shards. Giving up on the last resonating
sense of who we really are. The spiraling waves of golden yarn webbing across
soulscapes of lust and tar, move me. Hold me. Lighten thus the innards of my
cerebral surge of coloured glass. Remove me. Tender thumping a nerve crossing
over onto melted emotion and dusty floors, will you sand me down. Pressure rises
as a stampede of darkness rides into a horizon of dimmed down hope. Whisper a
moment into the cracks of my closed up heart. Bleached me down to reexamine the
engravings these shadows of words mean nothing after.
