What am I supposed
To do? I think I
Might want to understand.
A bluebell falls off the spacestation next to the moon of Earth,
and we catch it with our device that looks like an inside out umbrella.
We took it down the gravel boulder path to the research hut.
We open our scalpels and dissect the thing that we are and we are inside out.
We are looking at the open wound of humanity's gay goblin.
She made it a weatherproof vinyl sticker for a rear windshield.
And I open the lips of the blue baby bell that grabbed the liquid from the oxygen parameter that she blew up in her atom of her finger nail.
It was eleven billion trillion numbers and I gave it all up for a bottle of triangle suicide.
I gained a liquid faction that I wind up on my left index finger.
It makes the blood seem like a blue and red extravagant travesty.
And we swept it with a mop and bloodied the floor and the wall and the ceiling.
She made a little grain of salt into the whole meaning of the universe.
I cannot explain why I just absolutely cannot explain what is going wrong with the extracurricular universe of human understanding and trial and error and more errors that can be summed up in one sentence for a ex convict that rode his bike into the courthouse with a bomb attached to his forehead.
He grows up lonely in a prison cell. I grabbed his neck with my little shells on my pinky fingers.
Every day was moment to behold. She gave me a locket which read, Do not wait for me when you are dead.
https://youtu.be/fOYktlJec0U
https://youtu.be/J4AxrWrzyAo
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