I once told you.
How does that sound?
I love that plato said that we were once round.
And the nuts and the nuts.
The position of it all.
reading, removing, moving and loving.
I once told you. Shoes splitting, unwitting running up hill always.
Just a phase, reworked magic of the ill forgotten gains.
ask and ask and ask. The pressure of time.
Passing foal of the lying, honest
Ney. hey Fhay.
fake hay. and that was your old girlfriend? And now you love them both.
Well today way queer. I bumped my head.
A clean out. It is spring after all.
Television, perfect condition to one landfill.
“A tell-y-vision in each room”.
I don’t have anything to say really.
No strong emotional state. Sated ride, ridden tired happiness.
french kissing, blocks of chocolate and long walks on the beach.
Spot on. sporty loving feel-good.
Everything seems grande.
earning money for the fun of it.
frugal wanting, hidi holes.
Snug as fuck and without luck.
lacking days of wonderous rolling in the heys.
hey I said. to dad and mum.
Don’t look down, or else feel glum.
Runnick amok, coming unstacked.
withing for time, and needles… In my neck.
Walnunt. Wallmut. Mustard. Mustark. Fussing spark.
Royal purple. Colour confusion. Red lines and beers in the sun and vomit.
stomach clenching down. Rounding spine, red wine. Clasping hands.
Friendless. Yellow updates. Hopeless find.
Eating flowers, paying you mind. Nodding my head asking nothing.
Giving all and putting out washing. doing dishes, writing home,
Becoming a part of a bigger home.
Lost in translation, wicked hat. Feeling fradulent,
defining my existence by one word, but not knowing, unknowing what that word is.
Posturing memory of the contribution, but the pressure of all that is surrounding.
All is sacrifice. nothing is scared.
Only blood and steeely tastes lengthen our lives.
Hot and heavy to the back of my throat.
Floating loss., livid eye drops.
Dribbling spittle of heckling haggling hunger.
Let me live one day longer.
Revoke nothing but your hatred for this revolving plastic fabrication.
Annihilate spelling of miss.
Sun-stroked thoughts of pregnancy.
Alienated education of my fickle serene.
Sunscreen proving the creep of my hurt.
I am ultra.
I am violet.
A purple head of hot lostness.