a soulish excuse for a money grab makes me reflect but I still suspect the worst in everyone like a wild dog my fantasies in the moment can't be allowed to foment intrigued by an innocent smile I'll still be among those frozen in death never to itch or bleed again and this travesty helps pass the time with a destination clearly in mind we're sealed like wanderers in a transitional stage in this new age of the rebuilt heart with etchings on the wall that remind us all of a hunger that won't be quenched it's like a pipewrench in the craw of humanity it's our sanity and if not the physician then who will break you with concoctions and mixtures and you'll be a fixture for what's in store
You’re so deep, thanks!
then again, who wants to itch or bleed?