Remember?
Walking around like devils, lined up for the fan, spinning, feet stamping out a rhythm, you are not man, you stamp your feet to the rhythm, which numbs your eardrums, this su*ks out your soul, reaching for repetition, its a killer, up the buildings, straight sides flushing, light onto your eyes, windshields winking reflected, on rings and anklets, and around your neck, no freedom, o sweet heavenly silence, reaching for repetition signals illusions, its a high pitch, standing still your a synaptic space away, spare me my nerves, and blood battle, stains settling like a fat swollen heart, on a dirty white piece of metal, divided by degrees and angles, identities a pretty show of symmetry, straight line on your skin, marks the pain my friend, now its dawn again, we are shaken by the sounds, of ourselves, separately, struck out, its useless you know, how dare you go back out again, to repeat the same again, I can never do that again, perhaps one day on the spot, I'll entertain off the top speaking solely for my audiences benefit, on a quest to interest, I think you may be trying to be tricky, I wonder who you really are? Who I see I don't care much about, I don't know why I love you, despite of how you are? What is this? Do yoh even know who you are? I hate and love you the same, maybe one moment I will entertain.