Words are anxious and lost
before settling in meaning...
You break it all up
in smaller...
Why must we always
put on an act in order...
Everything would end.
Why we are able to live...
You are incurable
because...
These lessons are what gluing us together,
to this world...
Nothing more serrated than the stretch of a bloom...
Nothing is craggier than the distance of two...
Does Real madness need audience?
Does the insanity of love, splendor...
To dream is to wake up
and to wake up is to dream...
Drawing, writing, or taking naps…
Just a few things I like to do...
Every light turns to darkness,
every sound to silence...
Flat surface, new faces, and unknown whereabouts...
A mind hovering over nothingness...