Until it all runs out.

We trickled into a broken light symphony,
drunk on our own timelines and youth,
providing the facts that we thought we knew
and relying on healthpack chemicals
that weren't first placed into our bodies.
Feeling the blasting of our capillaries
form into intricately themed rochaches.
So soullessly involved and cemented
into a momentary significance, feeling the emotions
of abandoned tree houses that kids were born
to grow out of and forget
and keeping the coolness of integrity
pulsating through our veins.
Hanging from the bars of society,
we felt the air of internal achievement
creep under our skin and amply the strings until
we harrowed the crash, realising the eventuality
that this all ends so we continue to burn
our septums in accordance, feeling instantly rewarded,
reworded, rewired and reformed.