Palms read n bein felt like nipples made of braille.
Somehow it seems no matter how hard I try I'm set to fail.
A directional elevator goin to its peek of lost in luv.
Pent house dreamin n tryin to figure the loss of the rush.
Damn is the only four letter word that racks my nerves.
Repeated as filths flaws released as unwanted hatred heard.
Its always on the outside lookin in on relations when clearity arrives.
As on the same side slidin behind the eyes as they awaken in a different time.
Only if it was as simple as becoming one heart beat.
Gettin at it without missing a thump that flutteres in a wink.
How can one hold the grip slipping under pressure.
For the luv found is life's rarest treasure.
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