What walks along the cosmos besides death itself? The intricacies of the multi-verse trickle down, wading and crashing through a cosmic delta chain of action and reaction, the endless pool of questions, fears, memories.
The bright coloured socks
Is a poem I wrote. A poem I written?
I’m getting sick of the same excuses,
I am awkward and most people don't like me,
If only the grass would grow and
That little green owl, a friendly cartoon with it's hornrimmed
The first time I remember, I was floating.
no matter how hard i try,