The awkward confrontation of a fear that isn't purely a fear. I mean the probability and constant infatuation with the stupidity is irrelevant to the destinations that will be tripped on. Lace me up, to tie me down, to break free, run away, rich heart > saucy soul. Open spaces that are confining the creative energy bouncing at my temples, squeezing the momentum from my finger tips, causing elastic smiles and bewitched expressions. The weathered marks on unmarked substances, smoking up in a chaotic relief the disrespect of not dancing and raising your beliefs to the drop, that dirty thriller shock that will have you twisting in your skin within blinks of silly eye lashes, dusted is the most elegant of charms, glitter from the glitz and this sure ain't the valley, Love bug. With all the bows and delicate sauce you think you require your temperamental shine is quite dull and in retrospect we are all rooting for the other team, this time, last time, its not the right time for your time so settle down and get with the time. The restraint with to much, not enough, just the right amount of nothing. Stop. Drop. Roll on over here, take a look at me. Open window concept and your talk is cheap, no cents, no refund, step back - finish it, your full cup of bullshit, excuse me, waiter - shell take a refill.