westid

who are you? where do you come from? where are you going to? wander through my world, so poisoned and broken, dropping misery like ordinance on top of me just for being here – but it doesn’t touch you. and without anything to protect you from it all, breeze elegance and grace like it doesn’t even happen to anyone and it’s never going to fall

even when it goes on through the night and it got so i wasn’t thinking right, they don’t have a clue they ever saw you or care to like i do. and i’ve got a sixth sense and second sight – tells me through some instinct you heard it all when my very existence was torn in two

don’t stop now. what did you stop for? the arrogance of me, to draw meaning where i ought not to take leave of my logic. you will torture us both up until the moment you move on. where did that feeling come from? that knows everything about me and tells none of you. only forgetting completely for a moment of all the agony around, the eye of the storm moves with you, tracing your footsteps along the ground. i hear all this noise but when it comes to you it never makes a sound. what and who have i found?

there’s so much of me that doesn’t come to be. i used to wax lyrical with passion, of the things i believe in and in my own kind of fashion. i’m going to come back, but the only thing i lack is a reason. the latrodectus hesperus weaves her nerves in the deep dark black and so it comes, the season

even when it’s cracking the flags, how could you walk through the boiling heat all summer just like the rain what lashes down on us lately? i saw you for a moment in a flashback, am i picking up too much of the ambience around you or did you just make me?

there must be something next level about you, and still you just glide right through. i don’t know what you heard or even what i might have tried to say – in my own ultimate existential acceptance kind of way