The Lady With The Gasoline Doughnuts

Something about trust

I Look Around-
There's not much sense above existence
Just falling goals
Hard stone roads
Waywardness
Sleepless morns

I'm feeling smaller everyday
I wonder if my wisdom of before
Now drags me around and down
You keep throwing shovels at me

Underfed
Overbled
Size keeps popping up
Impathic Apathy
Jelly Donuts
and Con artists
Ink
Gasoline
Sound