A conversation among, The rain Is all it takes To love the pain.


A conversation among, The rain Is all it takes To love the pain.

And the fire dripped like watercolor ash, Mushrooming reflections For a hungry audience, That was taken in.
Indecision marathons, Have too many tracks To run.

To be A stranger To my own Mess.

At the water’s hill, Is a quarry in a query Up the will, Until the objects Of rendition, Has acquired […]

So to that wording, Has warmed them Into a mission, Without a target Or restriction.

Ends of dependence, Are that remote Remorse, For those alone.

When I feel The pain That always Comes You do not Understand Who I become.

Expectation winds a web, For the fate of most Is decided in, The heads’ of ghosts.