look what a perfect mess you've gotten yourself into.
"those who believe they are only telling stories have a better chance." or something like that.
we are eaten up on the inside
not by the secrets we reveal
but by those we keep.
maybe i shall write a poem about moths.
or about incoherence.
at least i didnt lie.
save your conscience, lose your soul?
i took a break;
6:00 AM