Today, you're walled in. Assumptions surround - force you to slotted. Breathing is difficult. Emotion won't fit. You're sandwiched, packed, packaged, surrounded by distorting mirrors.
Where might your eyes rest without slapping? How can you do anything but smile without your eyes? All good intentions deserve what when they're misguided?
You grow a shell; you slow your pulse; your mind morphs with the willfulness of a babe; you wait for escape.
Where might your eyes rest without slapping? How can you do anything but smile without your eyes? All good intentions deserve what when they're misguided?
You grow a shell; you slow your pulse; your mind morphs with the willfulness of a babe; you wait for escape.
