SMOKE OUT THE WINDOW

The smoke goes out the window, like out my head. On one lonely day turns into evening. Fractions, Broken emotions tying you down. Forgetting is impossible, and so is moving on. Look in the mirror, smash it in. See one shitty eye closed, too many faces, blunt minds. Hope or happiness is non existent. You hear nothing, when always people leave you behind, because they never say always, or do they? Minds fractured, blaming, demising, plotting is demise. Even as sick as i am, i can not help but love such weirdness freakish nature.