Inside of Me

The egrets sway and play in my memory. I live quietly in a cave of memory and sensitivity. I disrupt not, I hand a wave to those who want to play in law and order. The silence I see inside of me is a duct taped existance actually. The swaying oak is not a parody, it is actuallity and there is no hallucination for yee. Finding the path happens individually, but community can lead. I try to vex you with positivity, and rest in anonymity. Being part of an act, I must know how to react. My feelings are tunnelled through a glass jar that is not labelled Kerr. I make no jam, as my grandmother did, because raspberries are too brilliant fresh and in my hand. There are plans that I cannot see, but soon I will feel the effects of loyalty. I will not have to boundary even royalty. Professionals will begin to raise the sword and see the four horseman around me. Love, hopegod3 (Jenny Jenny)