Write Week 8

[brokenhal0]

its complex, the concepts,of the convexed, a convict,
its past tense intuitive psionic cosmic focus so hopeless

on the edge of the abyss,forest mist,carpets twist
when i stare into the darkest pits, despair lairs , only a queer cares

the sands squared ,humid air, i look around and see fear shared
i gotta relax dont relapse into lower ambitions i stand distant

perceptive to you misfits on my own i pancake that bizquick
rinse my self in purified waters , night torture, import the order

i see where im going with this we lonely and shit you watch
cause im exposing the gift,a cure to the star that's cursed

pursed lips thirst ,catch me hanging in aokigahara ..surfing the dirt
a spirit gets inhaled by the nearest smurf ed alert

cause you cant rest, in worlds, where you cant dress
i know you cant press this bench up, the rents high but the end sucks

the lucks nigh, but my, look how i end up.....dark nights of souls cant
control the bright end the benz truck lights off pens tucked fuck with me and die...