"The sleeves were laced with neon blue
adorned with gems, the precious ones
more inside than out,
It hadn't say much about them
but 'it's not an issue, of my hems'".
'I hate the guts of their whole being and them all being,
over all like the whole world is all theirs,
like the sky above is light, a blinding bright,
sometimes yellow, sometimes white
and sudden nights are long and dark and happen very often
"they never do anything but walk in,"
like standing up is too hard.'
know being upside down is really something, first
then look up sometimes, look around you, rise
who's to say it's by the speed or the carriage,
if it was measured by audacity I'd dare it...
I'm just looking at this point to justify it,
not deny it, but combine it with some violence
add some nuance, to the silence
make the most out of the darkest nights to fight it.