it is here, the new form, the new shape, the new reissue. 

and what am i to do with it? 

i am burnt out.

no not burnt, i am finished.

i dreamt last night of a small place, 

i could hide

i am not finished, i long to be. 

but it lingers, the smoke, the heat, the sting.

your face...

your presence, don't stay gone

and i hurt more than he could ever feel

anything

there is no home here

just a place

and i dwell deep

inside i have dwelled deep

i am not or i am

i am diminished

i am finished

i am only in my mind, where it could be warm

but what is warmth

where can i find anything within

is it not just a projection

a reflection of the space 

i am in

so i am waiting,

for this to all seem relevant.

for this to soar through the clouded

textured skies.

carrying me within, away,

gone, not in this mode

not in this mood

not in this space

where i am not relevant or

reduced...