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there comes a moment and a time, bittersweet coated in slick, black envy, like an oil smothered ghost, where heartache and heart align. It's a time of struggle, of feelings, but as Smith always says, or rather how I interpret, it's just pity that you feel, developed through your own feelings, so my pain can never be understood by you, for full at least. So I question, can I allow myself a moment of your time, your thoughts, your feelings, or rather do you leave me bitter and alone. For the time it appears, while I dice and attempt to destroy my greatest thoughts and fears, you have left me in quite deep shit. Emotional and burnt. It's not just a you, it's an all, a collective group, and so I'll write, I'll write to understand why. It will be for me, for I am selfish, and I seek a respite from this hurt, so I'll journey down a road of truth and where it lands, no woman or man will know.