Red line – A bus to nowhere new.
Science Po crastinate.
Masticate. Think on ritual death and freedom’s hot blessing riddles us.
Riddled. Riddled. Riddled with Aids.
Poo crastinate. Something to do. Shit.
Shell shocked, spittle dribbling down red cheeks of flax.
Seed stuck and tasted like lost oils or hair and frying pan.
Gemstone crazy. Glinting eyes, procreate closeness.
Speak. Interpol and the old gesture of remembering something I used to use.
Normalcy in society.
Two white walls.
Forming a corner
We can see the stars.
Without eachother we are barriers.
Closed and in the way.
But when we meet-
Closed becomes interlocking.
Promise me you’ll always remember, you’re braver than your smarts think.
Pulling out the sounds that are so awful.
Patronise I will.
To mean that i’ll frequent your establishment in kindness, that will always betray my position of superiority.
Strangely so, so the same.
You’re supposed to be here in two minutes.
Where are you?!
Next tear- you will see.
Blurred hot, running free.
Frightened hurt gravity.
Minus the Tea.
Is just warm undrinkable liquid.
Hello darkness my old friend.
It depends how wet it gets.
How wet you are. Success, catches, tiredness and pregnancy.
Lost moving and a draining tiredness.
We need to go to the beach or something. You’re flat, tired barking and sick.
Shut the fuck up shut the fuck up.
Run away. Die, bit my feet and my fetid foot with fuck you up.
Coming down like timber. A crumbling howl escapes your jaws.
Relax into the crushing feeling. Destructing reigning down.
A perfect storm in a tea-cup.
Come to my place?
Bone china, little fragile hands shake.
And your howling stops – never again to start up.
Crushed. Killed. Destroyed.