Cire

Cire - Adrenological 4:19
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A plastic bag of revelations.
Count my patience in grams.
Never 'I am' just 'was'.
Now sleeping. Words are useless.
Brains are truthless and love to waste time,
making reasons for hormone shifts we call fate.
Our love and our hate are just inside-outside confusions.
And all that I am is a malleable happening,
and all that I have is this intricate web of beliefs...
So I wash myself in condemnation for not seeing through this,
and becoming trapped once again in this adrenal reasoning