
Your own


∆ Neural Alchemist | Self-mythologist ∆

I miss being comfortable in my body. Every mourning I wake to discomfort and nausea that can last hours.
I miss wine. I miss being able to eat and not eat whenever as I pleased. This baby is taking away my freedom. I am a slave to my baby.
By choice with trust of course though.
Bless I am on finger spawn
Electric trenches bathing my cervical
Back and fold I’m a circus; locomotive
Freedom brings Casanova, baby mothers, and virgin wings
Spirals of the world most foul
Dancing wolves who often howl
Offers ballads every hour.
Rid of it all
Hitchhiking springs guided through the exhale of stalling hurricanes
Inhaling life, exhaling blight and begs it awakens thee
Are we parasite or harmony
