Burying my sorrow somewhere that can only be found.
Stolen Geometric Orgasm
I am a song
I am a breath between words,
only lasting for a few heavy moments.
I am what I've become
back into a corner
playing footsie with the antithesis of success
all the way down
There's a kind of lightness to these days,
lost in addictions,
comfort in decay.
I am still a creature of habit,
underneath true compassion
Clutching at straws
banged up knees
faded mind approaching something far away
Loaded up with (this) circuitry
a spinal alien feel