boredom seeping into the corners of my exposed membrane and an act of compulsion is attacking my entire being. absorbing whatever is left to the madness and mischief. delicate improper and damaged remarks are now syncing to possibilities of tomorrow. throwing into coke, you're coke head is not fizzing with ideas, and the rust is being washed away to a different place, taken away, you hope far but you can never really determine the destination of your demons. feeling floaty you liquidate your state and swim in the pool that you have now created with your mistakes. hopeless and endless you can't feel any pain because you've allowed it to become you. suffering to a point of even and their is no kilter to a breaking point due to your obsession with the poison. talking toxins and your just a mess, a Ferris wheel of wreckage, trap in the spinning of your troubles.
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