It's piling high, this leaning tower of frustration.
The observation of information leads to instigation of the infiltration of the human heart.
There's no end or start to this thorough investigation of the innerworkings of the green monster inside us all.
Miss misinformation fills me with misinterpretations and misconceptions of the truth.
However, with this situation, there is no truth I can produce from the sketchy illusions in my imagination.
The inflammation of my sense of utter humiliation is maximized by my bitter battle with rejection
And the erruption of emotion is an errosion to the facade on my surface.
Seduction is reproduction of implications of lust
And implications of lust are must in this situation.
I confide that contemplation of suicide has crossed this mind a thousand times
But I find that self-destruction is only counterproduction to the instructions given to me in this life.
Spontaneous combustion leads to disruption of the induction that we all dodge corruption of our minds.
But the only way to stop this interruption is to make an assumption that we'll all be alright.
The sensation of aggravation is a catalyst in the segregation of these parts.
Manipulation is key in the dark seduction art.
Too many complications make your intentions a blur.
Though, for whatever reason, I can tell,
You want me to hurt.
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