High stakes
Fantastic images smack me silly, wiggle belly-jelly of collated misery,
telescope pictures that are closer then they appear and I fumble over my fears instinctively.
Winds carrying feeble examples of my young history, reveals the imprisoned vulnerability of the person I project on you to be. I cry harshly with dry eyes of the most imaginative projections of self, I am forced to realize... I run slowly as I sit behind myself and hide, and now this truth has materialized.
Awesome stick figures of stubbornness, dance in protest of the rain that drowns out my stress, and with strong weakness I express fatigued brain muscles I've strained and thrown to test... I fall victim of the creative style of how I self-reflect,
So I've come to realize pressured pride will rebel when at its best.
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