Love has always been in the mind within the feelings of a deep inner belief sex is just a fuck a mutual buzz between the sheets love was never in the air just a subtle smell of bodily fluids where sticky fingers meet
When one psychologically Allows ones illogical unjustifiable · spiteful violent vindictive feelings to contaminate your family your partner your children the ones you say you love because of your laziness your weakness to control your shadows that demand your family Experience the same fear pain and despair you were given when you were young does that not psychologically put you below the level of a child molesting rapist
Is it not amusing in a sad cynical way when one thinks about the ripples that pretend they are waves the poor me the wanna be the cheap shots that keep firing across the bows of other peoples common sense values
Desperately trying to sink the things they refuse to think about screaming like spoiled children when other peoples common sense even when wounded still refuse to drown
Within this crowd of possibilities in this flea market of life where you haggle for an imagination that far exceeds your limitations on the price you will need to pay to be wedded to your imagination that the burden of the suffering in your life that you perceive that festers deep within is just a dream in your belief that you are free
Are you heterosexual pansexual gender fluid non binary confused young male desperately trying to be what the professors and pet psychologists with their caressing Believable non biased whispering words tell you that all your problems will disappear if you embrace what they say in a world where facts are classed as the enemy in this war to twist the minds of the young
It doesn't matter if the herd thinks your strange or who supports the holes you engage what matters is you don't play the game that was arranged within the shadows of pet psychologists who's aim is to change you me us the people into two legged Violent Frightened Sheep
At the top of this gully of flesh sits a rose bud in a hood at rest waiting for that smooth caress where the countdown starts with a twitch as the rose bud grows for your kiss and the rhythm takes you to a place where there are no words to explain
Could you tell me i would like to know how you live a double life one so imaginary you believe you can taste it religiously keeping up with currant events screaming blue murder when your life at a distance has been penned for death after the grief the circle begins again you inspect every room in their mansion that they who are paid to act to pretend put on the net and you listen with baited breath when they speak about the life that they live you abuse...
Is it not out of tune a little off the rhythm like an irregular heart beat not flowing as it should the rivers of your life being herded down the causeway of counseling into a reservoir for the psychologically destitute who have no concept of lots of material things who are still confused on why fake woman are all the rage we are pushed from piller to post on how we should think it drives one to psychiatrists who can numb all your pain the last resort ...