The Clear Picture In the Eye of a Calm and Quiet Insanity

when you left, i never thought there are no sentences.... incomplete has a way of twisting mercy to there is no success story.... tender thoughts in dust becomes the art of my presentation i sneeze as a stream of tributary teatrs fall like visible droplets unseen what makes sense to me never makes sense to the populous at large i am sized up, chewed up, and spit out before all tastes takes effect if i had a time machine and a choice of free paint, i would color every destination YOU and create a presense of forever the background would be the forefront the environment would inspire every rising action and climax all migraines would permanently dissipate wellness' perfections would be fully realized the totality of my energy level would be optimistically obvious my capability to truly love you would be the main basis for keeping you here....