Liar
I’m sure you’ve done it before. If you say you haven’t you’re a liar. Once, at least once- although maybe every day, you crawled into your bed and wished still to go home. If a dwelling then so dire become a midnight dream’s funeral pyre I think it’s time to wonder what we want. A dark deep lair, half layered half austere. A harsh mister of uncrept realization twists fates behind your back and outside the fabric. Although I sometimes like to face the eerily erudite leer, if we all want to go home- how the hell did we get here?
-Enjoy your liar’s day

















