Every single night I endure the fight of little wings of white-flamed butterflies in my brain. These ideas of mine percolate the mind, trickle down the spine, swarm the bell, swellin' to a blaze. That's when the pain comes in like a second skeleton trying to fit beneath the skin. I can't fit the feelings in. Every single night is a fight with my brain.
Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
---|---|---|---|
1344 | 2020-10-20 20:13:53 | 57.03 | 95% |