Besedila: None More Black. File Under Black. Everyday Balloons.

It's more than fists and phrases. It goes beyond life's little changes. It's not enough. Banks, bombs, coffee shops &
everything I own. I can't even think a second without my thoughts coming down to wreck it. Spirits been gone for months.
When is it coming home? These hangups alone are cutting me down, hurting my ears, chomp at the bit & bite at the masses.
Forgot whose in control. I'm killing what kills. Healing what hurts. Smile at the world. Destroying these feelings. Everyday
I miss it. I practise petty fucking myths to fix it...Just for a while. Shelve it with the rest of me. Next to the faith
I've loaned. I sore my throat to get it. I tune it in & turn it up to forget it. That's how it happens. Stage fright therapy
is the only help
I own.