(no subject)
I can't taste what her eyes speak in the green clicklighted leather interior of a greyhound bus, though I know she doesn't care; the beauty is in the brutality- watch as she looks at me, identifies another threat, watch as I am checked on periodically, as I am another island she needs to sail around; the beauty is in the brutality- watch as in her fury she destroys any small trinket she can reach, regretting it later only because her greed need be satiated; the beauty is in the brutality as it finally takes a father who then beats the life out of his child, though neither of them fully realise it (though the father knew sooner).
The divorce is of course a source of remorse and remoteness proceeds outward from it'd bleeding.
The Kid and the Queen and the Carnival Obscene are oftentimes lost in the bleating.
But what would you do if you saw these two silent staring at harlequin floor tiling?
The stupid fucking kid, always laying around and going into mental hibernation, everyones changing but because he doesnt he did, isnt that what he never wanted (but of course, the remorse, it was eating at his innards so slowly and subtley that he never felt the hurt 'till the heartache).
What a fool, ladies and gents! A fool this boy be, and soon a foolish man as well, the fool with a tool who hated but practiced the rules is now serving time at a gulag for idealistic fucks who like to through a few notes around, all hail the theif, all hail the dark secret things that he thought he could share-care in a bedroom.
The divorce is of course a source of remorse and remoteness proceeds outward from it'd bleeding.
The Kid and the Queen and the Carnival Obscene are oftentimes lost in the bleating.
But what would you do if you saw these two silent staring at harlequin floor tiling?
The stupid fucking kid, always laying around and going into mental hibernation, everyones changing but because he doesnt he did, isnt that what he never wanted (but of course, the remorse, it was eating at his innards so slowly and subtley that he never felt the hurt 'till the heartache).
What a fool, ladies and gents! A fool this boy be, and soon a foolish man as well, the fool with a tool who hated but practiced the rules is now serving time at a gulag for idealistic fucks who like to through a few notes around, all hail the theif, all hail the dark secret things that he thought he could share-care in a bedroom.