Obsessed with scenarios

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Obsessed with scenarios
“When I look out at the people and they look at me and they’re smiling, then I know that I’m loved. That is the time when I have no worries, no problems.“
Jamesetta “Etta James” Hawkins (January 25, 1938 – January 20, 2012)
Everyone desires to be desired
Am I a coward cos I wanna quit or cos I haven’t yet
woodland
Tracks from the birds Their rhythmic words Chipchip churp Take a quick hit I sip sip slurp Im just a licked tit, listening to cryptic sounds from the lifted I'm uplifted Yh I'm just vibeing Singing in their twiglet islands I'm on mine lean Fuck the hygiene I know that I've been Far from it But the last honest logic Is the harmonics from the Forrest Hear noises Voices Birds n a chorus, Words in accordance, Vowels and the nouns and tenses single file full stop space Whats making sense anyway I’m hella blazed N led astray in life decayed I like the disarray An earthed mosaic My ash laid where the ash laid My glance aims at the cast shade I'm half fazed part amazed at the Dance displayed A Canopy of arms embraced I pause in euphoria I am the audience according to my thoughts Disorientated Nauseous Till I'm reinstated By the smell of tree sap Spiced n sweetened Choke on feedback flick the roach n relax But I can't my seat is slanted Trudge the cardboard in the path that's planted Basking with the wicker Picture sorrow will she know Or will she figure Under no circumstance am I The picture perfect figure I'm entranced alas no chance comes from a whisper in the mirror My screen reflection Check myself n phone connection Snap out of it as I Snap aloud a twig Snap Swig and downed Amidst the tree trunk sounds I breathe deep sunk drowned All my sleepless scowls profound profanity Inbound But sanity rebounds From a Snapchat amity I tap n attach a reaction with vanity Cos in reality I'm glad to be me In my tragic gallentry travesty
That explains it
Hopefully