worn out plastic parts.
tap dancing
to a cello
on quicksand.
or riding blind
on an emotional unicycle.
immorally centered
and walking alone within a crowd.
and walking alone within a crowd.
fuelled by an empty meth tank,
whilst sexually garaged in my guilt.
wheel-less and perched on bricks,
whilst philosophically awaiting for a bus
that doesn't stop.
that's me.
basically fucked.
but always fervently optimistic.
wheel-less and perched on bricks,
whilst philosophically awaiting for a bus
that doesn't stop.
that's me.
basically fucked.
but always fervently optimistic.
