in the subset of tranquil madness I categorise my future memories into turmoil or ....watermelons
broken existence I share the heaviness of the metal dust in the sotlen streets, lost from frozen money thawed in a beautiful girls room somewjere downtown ...in the high places around like here - the condiotioner conditions my anger and cools my heartbreak - the fan rythyms my soul in to believing I am here ...I am here in the place where i am either here nor there where i neiether belong or am a stranger no i am not a stranger but I am not adjust to this zoo either - like a desert filled with stories filled with smiles and tears and water but also oil, sugar, and sesame ground into a sweet - I have been writing about the moment I reach the deafening sounds of truck traffic and rich versus poor sudanese I have been waiting to write about the times the street lamps shine onto my heart at midnight and how the sounds of sleeping people beat and how the trees sway with pink and white and how the sound of the refrigerator hums in the background and how I am here so happy but so sad because there is a part of me that i just want to kill and deploy so very far away to do its dirty business of crashing dreams elsewhere - and there is a part of me I do not understand - its like the girl who said I dont need crushed biscuits of solid flavoud...vanilla or like the eyes that stare at me and think what is that girl t hinking its the same girl thinking WHAT IS THAT GIRL THINKING
that girl I wish I was a new woman I have been dreaming about being a better woman i didnt want to cry at all but I am sad because I do not feel light instead i have a million worries and I do not feel beautiful because I the connection is lost and I do not feel in touch with myself because I am neither here nor there neither hapy nor sad neither good nor bad neither alive nor dead neither strong nor weak neither able or unable - they said to me you cant do this alone I said i wont even listen - now I say are they right are they really right?
broken existence I share the heaviness of the metal dust in the sotlen streets, lost from frozen money thawed in a beautiful girls room somewjere downtown ...in the high places around like here - the condiotioner conditions my anger and cools my heartbreak - the fan rythyms my soul in to believing I am here ...I am here in the place where i am either here nor there where i neiether belong or am a stranger no i am not a stranger but I am not adjust to this zoo either - like a desert filled with stories filled with smiles and tears and water but also oil, sugar, and sesame ground into a sweet - I have been writing about the moment I reach the deafening sounds of truck traffic and rich versus poor sudanese I have been waiting to write about the times the street lamps shine onto my heart at midnight and how the sounds of sleeping people beat and how the trees sway with pink and white and how the sound of the refrigerator hums in the background and how I am here so happy but so sad because there is a part of me that i just want to kill and deploy so very far away to do its dirty business of crashing dreams elsewhere - and there is a part of me I do not understand - its like the girl who said I dont need crushed biscuits of solid flavoud...vanilla or like the eyes that stare at me and think what is that girl t hinking its the same girl thinking WHAT IS THAT GIRL THINKING
that girl I wish I was a new woman I have been dreaming about being a better woman i didnt want to cry at all but I am sad because I do not feel light instead i have a million worries and I do not feel beautiful because I the connection is lost and I do not feel in touch with myself because I am neither here nor there neither hapy nor sad neither good nor bad neither alive nor dead neither strong nor weak neither able or unable - they said to me you cant do this alone I said i wont even listen - now I say are they right are they really right?
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