All your muffled voices keep me lost in my thoughts.
No, wait, that’s not right.
It’s all those muffled voices that keep me up at night.
Are we back at Psyhigh again? Is it that time of year already? When the veil grows thin and we drift through campus
picking up new travelers
passengers
like @
Little Velma Littles
and her little friends.
Sealed into our memory bubbles
we can’t move without the machines we make.
And we can't remember
much before.
But the fall is here
and the air is crisp
and we float above the mist
and trees
and nothing is more beautiful
than we.