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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 450 | 2019-01-28 00:27:06 | 84.65 | 95% |