such anger

i stayed up for hours turning in bed after myself like the hunted by spear like quick sand moving making it more paradox of resolution adding to itself turning my mind like a coin by finger i wish it was small like blind hatred but i have evidently matured out of it if only i could return to be lost in it my self righteous judgement being empty i could take my ego with which to fill it time of thinking like a child has passed blood now rather boils from that inside it's a matter of honour rather than pride in the past i would make a plan and evade now it is like i look myself in the eyes there is no nice substance i want to take to pave me a road no more that alleviates will i just continue to commit injustice or will i come face to face with myself to do me the favour of being true to me? this world may upset you so much that you will fill with a rage to run away from self instead of having an honest conversation circumventing to make the best out of it rather embrace it truthfully to make it last

CuldeSac

What are words without understanding and what is understanding without sense?

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