Spurts of happiness
In a fountain of sadness
Im not complaining
Im just whining
Identity disputes
Consciousness dilute
Her I want..
Her I don't want..
I shouldn't want...
But I want.
Mad tinklings and twinklings
And moral decay
And shooting stars and jagged reaches off far
And my life in delay
Inspiration I can feel. Feel rip through my essence
A toothpick through towel
This isn't pleasant
But it is.
My heart reeks of desire
For the one I want
But she just flaunts
Flaunts her beauty
Her thoughts now too..
How can I stand this
This moralistic madness
Follow-up as I said I would. This piece was purposefully ill-composed, very rough around the edges, unrefined, obese rambling and stream of consciousness. It symbolizes how I'm trying to ignore Thunder and sweep her out of my consciousness, instead of dwelling on her and perfecting and polishing her memory like a certain gem of the past.
