[e11even]

This mood is a mechanical jazz.
I allow the cogs of my passives to pass
in as I observe the tyrannical spazz.
This slurred stammer of movement used is a gathered distraction,
a lather of facets, clashing to make simple intentionals placid...
...you fall for it, you'll fall forward...
there's no pass for an ass with no class in reaction.
therefore this backwards act can act as a chasm,
thus, catching any result off its stance by understating the damage:

Swaying; "Nothing you're saying is making sense... are you sure that I'M the drunk??"
Stammering; "I had too many shots to deal with this shit... i'll talk to you later..."
Rebounding... "OMG... you would listen to THAT bitch?! (lol)"...

Counterbalance the challenge incited by incessant surveillance
by stressing a lesson every second alibis have been tested.
remain vigilant, sarcastically over-layer one's sentences
...as the battle's won with small victories in relentless quips
the confidence level is breached, the psyche questions itself
marrying the insecurity with obscurity is lessons learned and is felt.

This move is a professional fad...
I allow the dog's actions to recapture the passion
lackluster in past fits.
A whispered consolation, gropes of desperation- all while neglecting the past tense.
"...you fall for it, you'll fall forward..."
Loving this pass for an arrogant ass kiss to lay in it backwards,
I revel in this dwelling's account of manipulated passwords.