I’ve Told you Before, I Don’t Know What it is, So you Title It.

Enter at your own risk,

I’m lost in thought and have no script

I think a lot, I’m prone to fits

I’ve been fucked up, still at 36

I feel like Rogue, that X-Men chic

I have to watch who I touch, who I open up with

I mean well, but my mind is a bitch

She talks to me so hypnotically, captain of the ship

I feel kind of irrelevant, she’s tripping again and always wins

We’re both victims..here sitting..waiting on who knows it

Her opinions on what fixes shit, is quite different and I’m lost in

My own toxic far fucking lost subconsciousness.

Don’t get to probing too much and decoding my junk

This is just poetic symbolism

One form of getting me up up away and lifted

From all of it,

Even if but for moments

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