Everythings Ok
And i can lie about my day and say everything is great
and we can go our seperate ways and we never need to actually communicate
everythings already plated silver plattered we can sit and grow fatter off the fat of this as yet still not entirely discovered land
just blindly gripping eachothers hands
with very little eye contact, and its a fact, factually and standardly, theres no pandering from me. No siree, everything is coming quickly and painted and dictated exactly as i see it
no filtering, no filtration system
just the mechanical results of firing pistons, patterns set and forgotten about
from a long time ago, and nobody really can know where i acquired such a manner of thinking.
Flying skywardly, aspiring even though my eyes are pied and possibly my aspirations for these relations are probably too high
i still try to forget that discussing how our days really, actually went is what cements feelings and sentements of utter contentedness and understanding
and i know it seems absurd and chalk it up to a ridiculous selfish self destructive quirk or ideosyncracy,
but i wonder, if i told you what was really going on, as far i can see,
Would you still love me?
--------------------i'm definitely the alphaest male here--------------------
Wooooaaaaahhh. I'm too tired to really comment on this, but I enjoyed reading it. It just felt really nice to read (even though I couldn't properly take it in). Nice one