Days Bunch Up In Weeks, Collaborate Months Against Me.
The Sheets Are Stained With Evidence That Our Remains Are Now, Drifting Away.
I Share With Complete Strangers My Most Personal Of Pleasures.
I Scribble Tidbits Of Useless Mind Info- Trash, Treasure.
Spend Hours, At My Leisure, Like Sharpened Precise Tweezers.
Shifting Through In The Frame By Frame
I Walk The Same Path
I'll Say The Same Lines
I Do This Every Time
Do This Every Time
Dodging Armpit Stench Aromatic
Wrapped Up In My Own Self-Induced Stress Panic
I Think I Am The Only One In This Shifting Through
They'll Collaborate In Months Against Me.
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