for reasons beyond my explanation
my mind would go places-i never willingly wanted to visit
and your looking through your passport
finding all these stamps from nations you cant even pronounce
my heart has all these capabilites
its loved,its died,its been reborn one thousand times
my mind goes the oppistie way-i've chosen
an organ with two feet,two hands,once mouth,one tounge,and a mean streak.
the trauma of years. piling up.
once i read that when queen elizabeth died
they had to chip away the foundation and stain
form her porceliean face
revealing an ireedescnet shell of a woman.
I dont wanna die this way.
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