The Clear Picture In the Eye of a Calm and Quiet Insanity
when you left, i never thought
there are no sentences....
incomplete has a way of twisting mercy to
there is no success story....
tender thoughts in dust becomes the art of my presentation
i sneeze as a stream of tributary teatrs fall like visible droplets unseen
what makes sense to me never makes sense to the populous at large
i am sized up, chewed up, and spit out before all tastes takes effect
if i had a time machine and a choice of free paint,
i would color every destination YOU and create a presense of forever
the background would be the forefront
the environment would inspire every rising action and climax
all migraines would permanently dissipate
wellness' perfections would be fully realized
the totality of my energy level would be optimistically obvious
my capability to truly love you would be the main basis for keeping you here....
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