tourniquet binds, tether reminds, clean but confined to eyes carceral time, brutal refined, distractions define turn on channel 3 returning to find, numbers
unhealing incisions, path that turns vicious, a recurring sequence or an unbroken line, it makes no difference to the one that's analyzed, it's all fate
here's a game that self-destructs when it's properly set into motion saves you the effort, it breaks on it's own perspective is gone; you're watching
real time, is this real time or am i just top standby watching ceiling lines studying blank signs downtime, is this downtime but we're fixing nothing
you strained to find a lesson now just ignore it hold on to your heart but there's no use for it just go loose, choose not to choose staring at that window
i've got this syllable sickness called the six-second blues no doubt quixotic talk has been subsumed send down one last time that last send down didn'
in precious little circles thoughts run races dead in the water, black and still drowning in downsize none finish first no stars get us out of this hold
a finishing blow for a company man while sleeping tight passed hand to hand inbound until you're canned then hidebound fact slips like sand a finishing