I saw that before seeing it and now it’s as if I didn’t. The song of the dysfunctional moaning happens. As feet move, over screaming cement. A disdain foams just under thought, asking for more and more; move over and feed this original sin. A seedling isn’t just a thing happened, again, as the fearing behemoths protest- It’s all been done before.
-M. Taggart
mtaggartwriter 