Mammoth Comments

maybe being found and revered after all these tears,
dying in sticky stuff with, something that creates ashroud of incapacitation, where every one called to dissapears leaving, like a burglar in my downstairs room, i heard the window smash, where am i blooming?
this predation is limited it is some that see me as an ornament a value, i push i run i sleep and defecate, i see you i want you but i am stuck in this sticky stuff you run away you are afraid naturally, so am i,
i would stay with you pull you out see you through,
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