octopenguinsaur

For the moment I guess, being strange is a status I myself am complete with.

Leave me alone, I’m disoriented. I’m having a hard time Adjusting to the decent. Concern on their faces, My emotions empty, And I hesitate, Anticipating the burn for a moment.

The night at first was pretty; Sickly inklings corrupt it now. The night at first was pretty; I would wander somewhere abandoned. The night at first was pretty; But people now waste words. The night is no longer pretty, And she murders For the clockwork precision.

To wonder until we existed; Black, silent heartbeats. Then the sky rained down stars, Now the sky rains down stars, One place-- It feeds the people Into flames.