Mainframe Recognized, Accessory denied

There's a store of art collectors
collecting what's never known inside their minds
and They cover themselves in the essences of another's blood
For one painting took a billion cells of brain explosions gone
to another century in the future sense of what the accepted survivalist opinionates
reap taking through a mainframe switch wired to its heart

Could not stay home, make a song, bleed on the guitar
could not
Until they threw her into the desert storm tonight
injecting herself an alcoholic's remedy
adrenaline of lesser known factors

"I want to be in it, but not of it"
She whispers through half twisted
thoughts, after having explained to her
an unknown bigger than nothingness

An armed force bigger than me, and you,
she longs, for so long a victim of her own kinds
depletions of thoughts, sight
can't see the art, envy the thoughts
envy the time allotted on the painting frame

Cascade economics twisted at the trunk
thunder strike over centuries hit right at the core
burning it from the inside out
long rotted fruit, for what's left, at the edge of the wolf pack's home
Sent deer, gazelle, and pig to scour the trimmings of dying forest wood
Easy pray, this desert like floor

Angel windstorm blowing through the nights
deplete scent upward hot thunder night

Wolfpack unrest,
hungry
ease at bay

Eat the color right off the paintings


And I continue to paint