UNboxed-Misfits

I could feel sky rising from an empty corner, the lifted skin on my arms in muddled pattern drift to the open sea. Moral assumed and cursed what looked like sin, but without this expression I’d be done. Would you rather squashed shells of men on floors? I bet you would. Would sooner shove and shun than take another look and try new doors. Romp and run to free dance over quicksand, showing the far better side of living; on the other end suppression disbands. Feel it cup your centre, see it flying. If I feel like setting myself on fire, I’ll do so without the world’s desire.