So desaturated
What pulses, each joint flexing
Going on over the hill,
It is hard to walk on
Will I float to the upcoming earthquake?
Each crack filled with another name
Dropped off
Long lasting
Five senses being coughed on
Sick of accessibility
Paranoia linking all words
All should have been said in an auditorium
Obvious labeling letting the touch
Of any reality seem questionable
Maladaptive patterns shown
Through chronic drug abuse
What universal language will
All irregular minds congregate
Fever in no utopia
Its garden is the most despised
aspect of the modern(ist) project
