Text race history for Macbeth! (macbeth__)

Back to text analysis page

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
478 2023-03-26 23:04:06 100.13 98%