You're painted with all your sins. You're a walking cyclone.
There's no controlling what's in store for you.
They say your only way out is to abide by street lights, and the city life.
This misty morning will be the tester, while you are the examiner. You'll find out what kind of day you will have.
Caved in walls remind you of macaroni, tropical mushrooms. All that is an illusion. I want to sing my heart out into your eardrums and cause your neck to rupture into millions of dying infected (Halo Combat Evolved.) When you call that uber, remember what hell hole you just opened up. A bunch of memories will haunt you upon opening that door. Heaven.
Back to reality, I'm sinking again.
Tired and abandoned by your presence, let me be isolated with a pinch of envy. A pinch of envy.
I'm sorry I never came back to cardio. I'm sorry I didn't bother to communicate. I'm disappointed in myself.
They said I can be destructive to crowds. I want to cry again, but no tears.
I love you.
YOU ARE READING
Thursday
PoetryThe depths of my mind and dialogue of it all. My thoughts. My fakeness. My lies. My confessions. My Raw mental conversations. My weakness. My complicated life. The nonsense that creeps up in my head when I'm thinking. There is no need to understan...
