Wrapped in your insecurities I greet the morning with the friction of our flesh, pushing pulling dashed against my dreams. You never slept so poorly. I stood face upturned in your barrage of words you give so easily, and knew this storm could not last but I thought we could ignore the forecast a while longer. And now someone's sunny days have arrived and I find myself again voyeuristic, always leaving leaving never left.
I never dream anymore. Only play pretend with myself and others, your temporary cooperation is appreciated. Thank you, don't come again.
A revolving cast of distinct faces, my roots seep down through the cracks in the stage and I can't help but wonder out loud "Who today, and what tomorrow?"
Put pen to paper, everybody plays and are played.
Maybe I never should've put myself between five sons. Do you reap what you fuck?
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