Year of Mold

Put a firewall between us

System 32 please delete my feelings

Data mine my thoughts I think you know its over

Overclock the fallout nothing left to cross so why you even bother

Pick the rotting clovers count the moldy spots

My room is vacant except the pc covered in its moss

Attached to wires plug me in the cooling system like a swamp

My fingertips are soggy clog the ventilation in this space

I only hear the clacking of the keys

And sound of overthinking everything

I wish I never tried to think of anything