my soul and the river i washed my face in accidentally swapped places. now my soul springs from the mountains stretched thin to the warm salt sea and i have a river in me that cant help but want to go somewhere and smooth something solid over and over till it cant even tell its there anymore
i wish i was joking but my family and friends agree its the concussion from 2005 that made me into this. maybe getting glimpses of platonic forms behind the veil is the consolation prize you get from getting your skulls shit rocked now and again
