Brutal. Punishing. Waiting for the next gut punch, off-chance it's a caress. Gotta wait. But I digress. I'm getting beaten up, eaten up, can't do this anymore, can't be trying to find someone.
Turn away. Turn away. Don't be flayed. Don't be played. Don't get laid. Turn away. Can't be flayed, when I'm turned away. Turned away.
There don't need to be examples. I don't need to be an example. I don't need to learn from examples. If I turn away.
I see that I'm doing it. Getting played. Getting flayed. You can see that I'm doing it. So I'm turning away, running away so I can't be seen.
Was barely seen anyway, but I put my face in the fray, so I could be rayed with the little light I could get. The light that burned, I'm turning away, running away, so I can't be burned again, diving into the dark sea where I'm a little drop of awareness, I can still be seen if you really wanna see me, if you wanna meet me halfway, in the gray, I'll be here, if you really wanna, but I'll no longer burn in the light.
Ignored at the meeting by the monstrous chad because of the easily missed frequency of my voice, when I tried to be friendly and join the co...
I'm working out new ways to perform and record. They take the form of melodic fragments, half-assed renditions of half-remembered songs,...