Rasputin

victor:

these days they pass

like leaves on the interstate

& this state of indecision

leaves me restless



you need a place to rest your head at

well i need a place to rest my heart at



cluttered, confused with all i know

i can't slip like retracted syllables



i'm standing still in a crowd that moves

sweat breaks quick like joints and wrists

and it's like the first time you fucked

fought or fell in love.



it's a seasonal disply of shame, or the feeling

of armageddon (restriction, condemnation)

just to say that it's okay.



brandon:

(i'm standing still in a crowd that moves,

sweat breaks quick like joints and wrists)