Ash In A Field Of Snow

See you. Reaction is the mind. I am separate. Conquered by driving instincts through life but the ship remains atop the water. Persistence through fabrics across a long desert road. Former sentiment remainders of words passed previously. I'd like the best of nothing more than this. There she is again. I remember this level. I always lost. If everyone went too, I bet they'd come out right on top of my dissected corpse. Good evening. Pretty girls blossom more but the time still drags like hot water boiling on my skin. I'm safe and sane but smiling insanity. Expletive, emotion, expression. Everyone's going through this with me. Pretty boys never drop the fucking ball. Hi there repeated words giving the similar taste, thanks for the feeling of connection. I'd share but you'd make me do it too. If she can grab me off a shelf and divulge like the kid catching the new tree smell and enjoying it each time from up close or a distance, I want her to know that I'll always be her pet monster. Making this stick to the page, coming off of me feels like attacking your enemy and watching him come back to die some more.