shortlived nuances

 the ever apparent parentheses

sometimes greed is the only thing that keeps me sane

as my lust for self-destruction

it's a weird concoction

to slit your own troat when you're looking the other way

numb in the forhead, bleeding from your spine

when you can no longer communicate, everything is smothered in deafening beeps from your internal censorship

what is a bad day

what is inspiration

stop gnawing away on your own reasoning

trust is a liability

nothing in nature is cowered in dressing

kudos to you for thinking new

present the force through a horse

and trust that bliss is your friend

an assertive colleague

flood me with substances

stop critical thinking

continue being vague

good luck in life as you try on a new suit

pale faces, no idomatic responses

a lump in the brain

what is control, what is ability

what is life

but research for your own obituary