unlike a certain Sigur Rós album.
like a sufferer of obstipation.
on my brain
i’m full of so much shit.
here is where i’ll out it.
all over your nice clean, white sheets
muddied with thought.
dirtied with the dilemma of minds.
free for you to pour over.
to grip in your hands.
to force through your fingers
and into you.
so allow me to appologise in advance.
but it makes me think of holding your hand and clenching it through radiohead. and it makes me want to do something drastic that i dont know of at the current moment
no apologies please