What is beautiful if not vanity looking to seek attention? Where’s does depths flow if beneath the skin the feel can’t find an intermission. Who fucking pauses to see beyond the skins complexion so use can become of something real? Is there a better understanding sitting in the mind of a place that doesn’t wanna just feel? Are you ok with being on the menu as others lick their chops wanting a taste? Who resides behind the expressions moving repetitive motions upon face? What’s what when attractions aren’t looking at the whole picture of who someone is? N how am I supposed to entertain the same ol bs waiting on the same ol bs? When is there gonna be more than me believing in more than a physical presence? As why comes to mind with a curious sense of worth living in a constant defense. I’m nothing special but damn me if I’ve lost touch with the game. How is it that the eyes cannot witness anything more than what resembles eventual pain?
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