Your beloved rag doll, torn and beaten, my strings run that deep in. Emotions as valid identity is weakness. Hang for me – beautifully. Adorned hanging a Religious-like being.
Deny my inevitable sway, self conform with your delusion as strength, hang under my strings. I am simply born a ‘freeman’, there is no question; being me is torment, like watching a beloved dog get eaten. Eve is the reason; throw out of the Garden of Eden; Willingly the snake; Watch your feet or get bitten.