• Talking helps. Sometimes,
    Walking doesn't do anything at all, but get you places
    You're walking, thinking that your problems are going away
    By not thinking of them at all.
    And there's the wind;
    (Thinking to itself)
    "Screw your hair.
    I need a walk too..."
    It's not going anywhere, but neither are we
    And on top of things, it's cold.

    You thought you were safe,
    Haha, I fail.
    You have aspirations, I, death.
    Who's really helping you?
    I don't even think I'm on my side for this one,
    If any at all.
    You could say that. Perhaps,
    Destroying things is fun,
    More so when you built them.
    Saboteur, can't help but love to hate.

    Silence is golden.
    No wonder I'm poor.
    Excuses?
    None.

    Words suck.
    Nothing is what you want it to be.
    If there is one, God knows it's hard.
    To try, to attempt, to fail.
    Scratch that, red.
    Even when you're at your best,
    Language betrays you.
    "I'm at a loss of words".
    They ran from you, abuser.

    Damn experience, read.
    Too much scratching,
    Damn. Experience. Read.
    Better?
    If not, they have pills for that.
    Push the buttons,
    Pop the pills.
    Pop the button?
    Push the pills.

    And when it's over,
    The river flows.
    Salty greatness,
    Yum.