Figuring out from miserable routes.
I am my noose hanging about.
Faces aren’t familiar and confidence is shot,
what more could you want when I’ve gave all I’ve got?
A shelf-life can’t matter when I’m far beyond shattered.
So tight around neck,
this life has been wrecked…
Never “mind” over this “matter.”
Find more than just anger from coring the danger.
This nostalgic stance ROMANCES the stranger.
How it must feel to only conceal,
this patience runs scarce if used as a shield.
All moods are unstable as I flip this table.
More winding assault to fault inner cables.
Everything I’ve singled out has been compromised for chambers,
where I’ve not lived without, feel like a slow demise.
Spin the wheel of forgive
to take a break from what I live.
Slumbers of pure wonder
attack the insomniacs in their plunder.
So left to tend beds, I’m stock piling their meds for THUNDER.