Have you tried to rebuild each hour?
We whispered the most personal things
Obtuse conceptually
Acute at the points cause they sting
Wings and drinks
So ineffectual
In tune with self immolation
Oh god I feel so small
Sky
The purple nebula
I was lucid one day then I died
Like woah
Progress spherical
And all alone, my penmanship seems fine
Fundamentally not unlike
The disintegration of the bone
I tried to embalm my life
Before the sun went down
One dimensionally
Simplify into a spectrum
Left and right never up or out
My life feels so small
The literate philistine inside