lately, I’ve been in desperate need. unlike blunt instruments, a story of meat. if i told you of the bridge or twilight, you might call me idealistic (a sheep). sleep not orgasm, these days, is a sort of little death. paint chipped off the walls? it happened before the child. you get up to leave the room. the shapes are animals in the body. yawns, stretches before a run. turn on the lamp. put away your weapon. the shadows begin to hum.
SHEREWIN 
lately, I’ve been in desperate need. unlike blunt instruments, a story of meat. if i told you of the bridge or twilight, you might call me idealistic (a sheep). sleep not orgasm, these days, is a sort of little death. paint chipped off the walls? it happened before the child. you get up to leave the room. the shapes are animals in the body. yawns, stretches before a run. turn on the lamp. put away your weapon. the shadows begin to hum.
I don’t know why that makes me feel better.
am glad it did for whatever reason.