More stuff

Split me more stuff than you care,

share shit and dust with no one’s sake

and bend over for a prank;

fuck again with my shell,

shy enough to keep on laughing.

Cleverly ending my tale (lier).

Understand if not again I’m there

for I must not take the blame of the world.

But blame, yes, oh dear,

for the sake I’m not getting.

Am I wrong?

Is not what I’m reckoning.

Is just not, nothing.

Anything going on from here...

over there not much blurry anyways.

So get on, and know me as well,

know and bend over again,

because I might forget how alone really I am.

Am?

Not then?

Then where are thyself?

Is us who I’m looking for.

But still is me here.

Where then shall I look?

Forsake me then. All of me.

Or stay and tell. Or I’ll tell off.

Is is OK?

Can you get us on then?

Feel as me, as well,

instead of showing off your likes and dislikes.

Lick over it all

and erase its mess

or erase us.

But erase, for it’s needed.

Care then? ‘cuz if not, then run off.

I’d rather keep a safer spot in my soul

than staying out freezing for us-you.

Straight up that line and follow my string:

It is finishing.