mind of moss
you cant fit material
into a filled up box
in order to get in
you need holes
let the rest out of the windows
i want love
where all that isnt waiting
behind a curtain concealing
collecting dust
see to it you git around to a pleasant life
wash of thoughts
i dig through the parts you
thought you lost
and build a thing for you to gawk at
im just a battery
to git you spiraling