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Continual this beating. So familiar. As I grow in wisdom, my age he shuts me down but its enjoyable. Oddly enough it was him who made me see the length of how far this mind does travel. not so. I cant seem to grasp this this sand... reality lost always poems seem to be less and less meaningful more so confusion wrapped in ink. An atmosphere without air I say you say not to those of us with that fatal organ... words not spoken but heard by just me? I don't know. I wonder if he feels this way too. Some how its wrong though why? yes so cruel. My apologizes never makes a whole I mean. Never makes sense. Then again none of our thoughts do not til they die off our lips do we understand do I understand myself even. So feeble and young. youth does power me now but what then when I am tied strapped down to concrete. Falling to my perpetual cycle of confusion depression resentment confusion. Never make a whole... I've tired