Red Eyes Glued To Storm Window

something in the sign in which you pen me something in the burial grounds in which you den me something in the illuminated images in which you pretend me the yellow blues of the caution lights do rain dances on my sanity see, when you walked away, i became a cross legged cripple there was no longer heat in the center point of the simplest ripple i commenced to banging my head to double and the triple oh how i yearn for a cheek, a pearl, or even a nipple if there was a wishing well at the end of life's force field, then i would build all around it the mightiest surefire shield not a soul could get through it even if one attempts to yield constructed would be the formation of our own brand of guild