Illogical mathematical formulas advertising my mental flow. 

This is how I draw. 

This is how I exhibit myself further than meets the eye.  This is how I think. Abstract lines. Geometric patters trying to magnify, in my thoughtful alignment of words.

Learning how to think is...

To test the measure of an effect.

To feel an allowance.

To free the unconscious.

The shelter of my sorrowed mind.

I know very little about a great deal of things.

To test this has very little impact on the nature of my being.

This space between my mind.

I am not favoring guilt.

You know.

That vibrational sense of what you must be feeling any given moment.

My growing culpability.... it keeps growing

And growing.

Into the kind of a monster. 

But not the type you strangely would associate with your mother.  Like some form of  psychological impairment.

It is more like the Moral aptitude of a coward who is never on time for love.  And still sees the sunlight.

Being boring is a trait or characterisation into something undesirable. 

Wild nightmares...

That in the universe is built upon... a heavy heavy unpredictability into what causes you to deserve and not deserving of.

What does that look like.

Does your face tell the untold story.

How might it unravel!?

Something like an uncalculated dose of fear into the brains neural pathways... interfering with the happiness you seek.

And maybe just maybe she'll be waiting for me.

Another time.

Another day.

How will I know it ends.