GrayscaleUnicorn

there’s guidelines and conditional sides; a drilling in my ear reminds me that motion is fluid the gates are not locked and with enough effort i can join them too i remember what went on and i dont think coincidence is the right word. im the hammer and the pick. there’s say that the crops won’t make it through winter and i don’t blame them one bit what does it take to compete what’s missing, an idea? why am i so fragile; brittle to the touch is what they’ll say and again i can’t blame them when pictures match pictures and the story fits the nights run into the days like dandelions in the summer fill

i used to have thoughts in fluid motion - solid; concrete and glass. storm to pass. I can't find you; there's a million currents tearing away at the earth now my ears are ringing and the undertow tastes less like salt and more like home every second every second bleeds now, it absolutely bleeds. god.  i remember what it was like back before every breath was filled with brine and the wind didnt carve into my skin in ways I remember but only want to forget the only thing left is to forget. Deep Blue.