I am sitting here on the fringe of society...screaming.
Can anyone still hear me?
What if I told you I was invisible and that so was my illness.
Something you can touch and taste, but that is never fully aware.
We are not talking weapons of mass destruction, but of end times,
spiritual warfare of the mind. Of minds.
Was a dream I had of the end, or so it were, when I was eight.
I tried to put on play about it to my mother and her friend.
It was of impact, the shattering of glass...
the being the first in class...to the shriveling up of flowers.
Rather awkard I am sitting across from one of my perceived stalkers; at a Starbucks.
Never have I just hung out here at night, but here he is and here am I, trying not to be wary...
But just type. Just hum along synchronous tune of sorts, on the keys to please the Odds.
of it were and always will be just this fringe benefit...of sorts.
Can anyone still hear me?
What if I told you I was invisible and that so was my illness.
Something you can touch and taste, but that is never fully aware.
We are not talking weapons of mass destruction, but of end times,
spiritual warfare of the mind. Of minds.
Was a dream I had of the end, or so it were, when I was eight.
I tried to put on play about it to my mother and her friend.
It was of impact, the shattering of glass...
the being the first in class...to the shriveling up of flowers.
Rather awkard I am sitting across from one of my perceived stalkers; at a Starbucks.
Never have I just hung out here at night, but here he is and here am I, trying not to be wary...
But just type. Just hum along synchronous tune of sorts, on the keys to please the Odds.
of it were and always will be just this fringe benefit...of sorts.