what the words won't fit
and the feelings turn to ash,
heres the rush of wanting
and all the things I didn't want that happened anyway;
everything that makes no sense.
From this perspective there is no size at all,
all dots connected in this blurry image of God.
Do you think those night mares pause for the laws of grammar?
steam rolling over the point, to think of something else
Because it always has to be all or nothing,
omni-god-damned-potent
And I tightened my soul like a fist against
the will I didn't know how to deal
And in this web
I struggle
knowing it's useless
and beautiful
and I want no choice at all.
