The dream is the same.
Nothing is change.
Except the places where my elbow sits when
the thought of when I am is more than where and questions rise like shreds of toothpicks in my socks in shoes I've worn too long for the length of a day, but think of the socks, the socks unchanged, holy hell, I just wish the man in the gray sweat suit would say anything so I could day dream slightly more sane at the local hole.
Nothing is change by another name.
Nothing is change.
Except the places where my elbow sits when
the thought of when I am is more than where and questions rise like shreds of toothpicks in my socks in shoes I've worn too long for the length of a day, but think of the socks, the socks unchanged, holy hell, I just wish the man in the gray sweat suit would say anything so I could day dream slightly more sane at the local hole.
Nothing is change by another name.
