

consciousness in poetic form.Heycome with me. You mean something to meIconsciousness in poetic form.
want to spend time with you. So lets walk. Somewhere; anywhere, where the sky blends and darkens ahead, a mishmash of emotion. Everything I touch becomes cluttered and messy but only in an organized way. True facts.
Time is an ever-flowing river; fast currents pull us through parts of our lives, and the river slows to a trickle as we wish we could move past it. I struggle to keep my head above water through every change in current. It moves slowly when we are
lazy and procrastina