Eyes are singing
Exultations to morning's thunder
Hands are dreaming
Their desire to hold you under
Some people keep so many secrets there's shit they ain't even told themselves.
this information will mislead you, yield no fruit, and ultimately the choice between the Abyss and the Glory will not seem so obvious. To jump, to fall, to never land, to fly death, to cheat yourself blissfully from everything that shaped your tender egg. Lost life falling leaves little room for metamorphosis. It will be as if I am a mindless angel, and always have been.
Doodle pentagrams in red ink in the margin, worry the medicine I took was non-drowsy, relight the red candle, sigh the shades closed.
Good weather for dark boys.
Can't sleep sober.
The dagger don't feel the pain it's doin', the dagger can't be blamed.