watching the pictures on tv. going out with no sound. life illustrated so clearly. these are my most private moments. i am sitting on a plane. i wish i had the window seat. this moment so turbulent. i know it is certain death.
next to you again. i told you i had my fortune read. and i was told again and again. that the world does not move fast enough to hide its flaws
riding through the city. all day with no direction. i am stuck with these people. in the middle of their conversations. the least comfortable seat. like bullshit scraping the chalkboard. they should fucking take me home. if they want to do me favors. why don't you do me a favor?
i watched it happen. doors that closed behind them. is this your intimacy? or the shit you dragged behind you? did your world move fast enough. to keep your shit from dragging the ground?
~the world does not move fast enough to hide its flaws~
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