my gossip, my word's as they are said an whispered to the mirror of my hollow shell, i bend to the need of these words, as i seek it's truth on me,

like a analyst, i attain all that is to be atoned, acquire it's words as they are assemble in my mirrors reflection,

my voice is hoarse from the endless yelling, screaming that is not heard, whisper's that do not ache my ears,


like an encyclopedia, with manys words they do not easy my mind, my thought's are grasp with hands that controll only a vague distance of this, my hollow shell, eats through me, like fangs hunger of a wild untamed animals hunger, my charade is a fraction of bidding, my own is not of me, i walk along the side walk's as they have no ending, as they form street names, but yet my mind does not allow me to form it's meaning,

i contribute what was to be by my cruelty of somehting, that does not roll from my tongue,

an as a hollow shell is, i am to be.