for our house is the corner of our world
and the space we inhabit is our house
we fill the space
thought, reverie, dream, memory
the past that imbues
the future that seeps
engulfing
the contents
the matter
and the shadows
for as long as our blood runs within us
words are slow
yet, I mean for them to continue producing
from my tongue, they slip
and dissapear before any notice
get a hold, break
everything is so vague and cold
lines and lines and lines
it’s all that
wildness
wish for a hurricane
to fuck away everything you think you need
and to not sleep
but wreck into our dreams
The underlining principles to wholeness
I look around
I repaint
I’ll carve my soul
and hope for better
Everything in front of us, is another chance
