Dear planet Earth I'm considering a leave of absence, I'll leave my contents at the door so it's easy to come grab it.
I used to think the world was magical now I know that magic was actually the child I used to be, he is no longer, hence the lackluster reality I now squat in with a shred of the hope and the tears I monger, but i thought I was quite deep and im stronger than before. Without a doubt I will continue to be meek, and conjure lore.
It's so profound, the words you heard from my mind they leak, the verbs I slur with such slippery sounds; careful don't get hurt. Everybody who tries to get near me ends up an insatiable dessert.
I'm not really Caucasian though you'd think so from my skin. I am a melting pot of possibility and potential that's been thinned by the undertones of instability, and sour notes of apathy.
My mood is captive but I'm not captivated see, this heres closed caption from my brain. It brings me nothing really, does that make me insane? It makes me feel quite silly, this conundrum is a drain, I hope it's not all in vain.
Crafty business all this pairing words to be heard but it doesn't seem to get read, it's really quite absurd. Maybe after I'm dead I'll receive the praise I so long for. When I can't really use it, how long will I have to be gone for?
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