It's a very odd concept to grasp.
The pressure slides along the cells, breaking surface.
Running like sap, dark and warm, it oozes.
With no destination but the outside, there is no care.The sting comforts the existence of the void.
A beautiful canyon of carved paths form, all with their own meaning entirely.
BINABASA MO ANG
Battle- Scars
De TodoContinuation of random, tangential thoughts and poems. **MAY BE TRIGGERING**