the ink of the press bled on my paper an impression of the wrong dimension
explain yaself promptly dissolving precaution while the night gleams it seems I've seen the wrong things
perhaps the wrong dreams alluding to the wrong screams and yells freedom my only want out of hell into the dark of isolation am I escapist realist or hibernationist maybe an antisocial wordsnitch relating like a witch flyin off on the broom from a misinterpreted idea
time folds the paper over to reveal another side to see more clearly what we have to hide can you picture the story I've told even tho the story is so old are we all looking to find a cure in the nightly occurrence of a sleepless disturbance on pillows that don't sooth beside the words the ways the moods my hands only want to touch and calm what I hear inside of you
dripping wet from the inks press intimate encounters leaving watermarks on paper sheets out of hell into the dark of isolation am I an emotionalist defensive survivalist an incessant trivialist maybe a nochturnal egotist but all and still the design has an interesting pattern so complex I didn't see it at first
~~~~~~~~ luv R. https://www.facebook.com/robyn.wildchild12 psycho. "Institutions encourage us to consider the opinions they sell as "facts" and that we "believe" rather than question the morality they pitch." cities need fewer shopping malls and more skat