Plaster Fix

A oozing interference causes doubt that everything I care about is truly not just in my head where dense dreams are bred and ignorant sanctuary from what I think I know about depression, myself, where my thoughts will go at night, I'm losing the light brought to me by photocopy hands proving I'm as malleable as my fears demand My concept of love is underlined with overdependent selfish cries and despite being self aware i can't bring myself to care enough to change not even for us not for God hope is not within range I do not have the proper mod I have come to believe my eyes are blue windows to the soul they tell me and you I guess that's the reason why I can't bring myself to look into your eyes