HAVE I STILL NOT
GROWN UP? – You wont feel a thing, so dont complain. Wake up to love in the midst of violence. Have I still not grown up? I would never harm you, though my clothes are staples and my heart wont dance. Im a lazy idiot seeking to evade responsibility. I wish things to happen by magic. I cant lift a finger. I dont know if my bodys real, though some of it lingers. The wind is latent hysteria in dishonest confusion. The babble of voices keeps itself armed, bemused and tongue-tied in its low-down come ~ just enough to be soporific. Driving me crazy, just for the heck of it. Real lives are lightweight and always blown at the last moment, like dandelion clocks. Theres no chance of waking up: the opiums in our bedchamber, buried down at Wounded Knee. There are so many distractions you couldnt count them though you spend your life doing so.
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