Dead is alive

My life is like ink spread at the moment when words are read, expressions taint the canvas of present life celebration loving that struggle where the heart stays one step ahead, we've done the wouldn't and won't, now you see as i do and any other way I dont, warm turns cold and like seasons go we grow together in these cycles, change so inevitable like crazy babies in this realm of psychos, some advance while other's stay stuck still a good handful wont even see tomorrow, only this sick side show is promised, like the stray shady hallow's having no name, X still signing the bottom dotted line of horror, terror claims conquering optimistic souls, leading us goalless like modern technology, like dreams being hacked without protection to spirit, subconscious wounds walking land without proper understandings, give way to this cicus and the show must go on, as stanger times come along we still do as we do either right or wrong, not truly knowing how special, related, and accountable we really are, these words are posted as fresh as text chat, where a prayer leads deciding my speach with only one thing left, for the heart to follow.