I’m not sure of what I am feeling, my heart can break, my ego; callous
What keeps me asleep is a range to run
Emotional in wake I bake the sun
Holes of bittersweet spit up, you nuzzling my breast till numb
Turning in, on and off
Tuning off, out and in
I attempt to sing those sensitive songs, I pretend with oneself, playing once upon a time
There’s no where to go as my soul is magnetic to your salvation, even here the space of our bodies deafening
I don’t know exactly why this fight takes flight, ideal is a winners war; no casualties
August 12, 2015
I need a soul to look at. No stimulation stems from rocks. I enjoy my shadows. We dance together in dead streets. We like to hold hands and create tornadoes. In the hands of relation and this chaotic lifeless shapeless home.
Freegrandmaa 