Birds Are Spies They Report To The Trees Ftrrm
former friends in destructive bondsit pinpoints the
moment of change
themporal settings
temporary warmness
pick up the pieces
i'm the protagonist
willing to conform
i'm driving drunk
on self-loathing
and vengeful righteousness
on a temporal setting
frequently bothered
repeat offenders
on amateur crime waves
a sinking feeling
of not returning
to the point of origin
of decades and days
gone away
i'm learning every detail
deconstructing
preoccupied with less
and less and less