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my musical taste is off because my taste buds are coated in dark green from too much colour sliding in from red and red and green and blue and orange and orange and lemon. lemon yellow suns.
false hands praise false gods and my blood flocks when it thinks of fuck-ing.
desolate. desolate sand piles perched in hot flames of salt. i have never even been to the ocean, but i am not bitter about. i am scared off from stories from mothers with burnt backs from jellyfish with bright shocks. ripping through skin. where do they think they're going? they're not coming in.
patti smith through arthur rimbaud and me through her. He was smart and she was skinny and i am just... just so. the sickest food chain is the one where everyone is well fed and healthy as the horse meat beneath their chairs.
i am happy that what is over is over, and it is way too fresh in my mind and on my eyes to want to go back and try it all over again. i wish certain declarations would have waited. i wish everything would just wait until i could catch up, and stir the pot with my own two hands. and doesn't that bring back the burn and green and the euphoric feelings all too quickly. what's too easy? maybe not is what we need. not is need. maybe.
false hands praise false gods and my blood flocks when it thinks of fuck-ing.
desolate. desolate sand piles perched in hot flames of salt. i have never even been to the ocean, but i am not bitter about. i am scared off from stories from mothers with burnt backs from jellyfish with bright shocks. ripping through skin. where do they think they're going? they're not coming in.
patti smith through arthur rimbaud and me through her. He was smart and she was skinny and i am just... just so. the sickest food chain is the one where everyone is well fed and healthy as the horse meat beneath their chairs.
i am happy that what is over is over, and it is way too fresh in my mind and on my eyes to want to go back and try it all over again. i wish certain declarations would have waited. i wish everything would just wait until i could catch up, and stir the pot with my own two hands. and doesn't that bring back the burn and green and the euphoric feelings all too quickly. what's too easy? maybe not is what we need. not is need. maybe.