there’s something beautiful
in the reopening of these wounds.
so i ask you.
was it all worthwhile?
and maybe time has worn this skin
to a weathered useless sh*ll
it’s so whorthwhile
it’s so wright
as we run this page begins to tear away
and we run as out minds sift through reality.
this page breaks away yes it falls away in particles.
so we run, so we run
(so we cultivate what makes us whole)
and we run, and we run
(into products that feel tangible)
as he folds the page (he can’t concentrate)
can we fold the page?
he’s not rational
as his mind explodes into patters unthinkable
so he separated.
so i relied on something i could hide
(as you fall away time escapes you, barely hold it down)