​SLOW CONCUSSION

Slow concussion
Slow concussion

My life has been a series of failure and success,

They said I belong in recess,

Whatever I do goes back to recycle and back to the process.

Maybe they were right that I am a retard and I was born on the wrong side of the bed.

That explains it.

To why my brain thinks better when I am lying on my back.

It also explains to why I think better when it is dark.

Darkness brings me more horse power and less of the sour.
I am only but a man likened to a human who was bound to live in chains and bound under the rule of Thor.

My main call to life was my psychopath brain being roasted for meat by the tip of the brawl.

I sob and that’s just normal.

I talk and that’s only for the normal.

My existence is only a tape playing backward.

My every mistake is well documented in history and psychoanalytic books.

I look with two eyes but process with one brain; only with the 1% of my brain.

I feel hooked up on morphine every time I try to use up my other 99% of the brain.
When will the breakdown of my life come to me.

I have requested many times but the bank never gave it to me.

They said that my brain is going into a concussion and I might lose me.

But what is in losing me if I have never found myself.

All I see when I close my eyes are books on a shelf.

Is this the concussion or the release of the elf?

How can I die>
How can I die when my traits are with Cain the son of Adam?

How can I die when I am a trait of existence and sin at the same time?

A dam cannot wash my pain, away.

This slow concussion is slowly and lowly dropping its guard on me, anyway.

I am here to stay and you gotta respect that today.

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