I get...

[bio187]

I get left out of life sometimes... the wicked rhymes beneath my mind seem to spin into words of erupting concussion... of terrible admission within my vision... I never see what I can't be but dream it up with world tight shut... I never follow through the ideal wallows of time in despair and death will never be what I saw inside the hall inside my head where I wish I was dead tired instead of awake upon the taking of the open casket inside the drastic wear and tear of the fears...

~Dane