To many faces, to many moments, not enough energy. Unattached from life itself, begging for someone to take away this dark soul and tainted eyes; strong but cluttered mind. Sad eyes and fakes smiles are wearing thin, not covering up like they use to. Happiness ran out, this mask soon will too. They no longer serve purpose. She wonders if people knew what she knew, would they astreik * her name
The endless pattern of mindless perception. Staircase of personailities, the beginning, always captivating moments sucks you in while the hold becomes stronger.
These predicaments, explainable, but rather be left unexplained. Just like my inner me can not seem to detach, I’m back. Closure never comes, but the flickers of ambers after the feels goods have diminished have appeared. They dance, the reoccuring dance, singing the same hope.
Maybe its the warmness, that warms her up to experiencing a new ride so much more.
1990passions 