watching the real me

Aliens that hide inside my mind are so kind to notice my dread as they puzzle the muzzle of my dying life with it seems the many realties fractured and broken with shards of blue rays stinging my brain held together with stamps bleaker than this shirt I am not wearing. There is a texture about it a feeling that comes with pressing on keys that don't like me. Disarray the rays of blue clues to the thoughts I had last year. Very small, very large kinda smallness when things ride off in the night and points of light meet the free on a rose garden torn cut with thorns of life's desires.

modern art forms similarities of differences while the writen facts listen to the gray inbetweens that make matters worse with the pillows flat answer that knows no end. We travel from point to point with broken machines running on long lines that wait for days end....