You’ve seriously made my whole day better by letting me bask in your glowing presence for these last few precious moments.
You’re fucking dogs ate my prozac
Those thighs look like drumsticks, I wanna eat them up.
I’m looking for the one with the eyes that are alive. Not placid nor stagnant nor dull nor brill in the poignant cast of my horrid glory. Let her shine vibrant and still in my gaze. Sing her beauty like whispering lullabies and soft bells. Render me innocuous to her subtle charms and delicate wills and and means and ways. Send me silently into that dark night of destruction, let me communicate with the dead and release my unwonton lecharous wisdom on the thrid unseen eye of America. Burn down the house that housed my fathers dream and hold on to the rattle of a real life full of contrived sensual sensations. Break me in half and turn my torso inside out into a hollow mess of viscous pudding. Let me cure and thin into a thick ribbon that shatters into little pieces at the slightest touch. Sing me oh lord into thyne underworld of holy infinite abyss and wonder and let me suffer no more. Dreaming darkly in this unsodden abyss, all around the haunts of intellegence and culture lurk about lommingly for a last unretrebuted shot at love incarnate. Dance subtle beauty. Sing my name in the streets at dawn. Wrestle with my mind at noon and sing with my heart at night.
I’m dangerous, I’m lethal, I’m verile, watch out, you’re next.
I saw a dead dog in the middle of the street as I was walking home last night. That is all.
I know you think I’m just a kid and this is just a silly infatuation or phase, but I don’t think you know how truly blessed I feel around you. Other people had god or drugs and all I ever wanted was love and then you came around like the wind, always present but never visible and blew me away, with nothing to show for it, except the memory that it actually happened and i was the one chosen to have it happen to, bitter sweet circumstance dancing tirelessly with serendipity. Magic, that what love is, simply magic.
What’s the cure for ennui? Little white lines?
The bum with the bright blue.eyes.who.looks like a twenty first century Jesus, just.shifts his eyes about looking at everyone and no one all at once.
You’re young and you’re beautiful, its true, for now.
I think I want to get a tattoo of a robot and an alien holding hands.
The desperation, the loneliness feels insurmountable and as though you’re laying crippled and mute in a deep darkened valley of your own creation. I try to flex and yell but I only end up stretching the silence. Words become heavy weights and I buckcle under the utterance of a single syllable. I am dying miserably slow, dying in patience and good manners and greetings and salutations. I hunger for the blood lust of a single happy soul that I can call my own. Time is killing me. The remembrance of holy days, holidays, and or any other day when the sun doesn’t rise. Her name is Petunia and she is enclosed like a mollask. Her body is coarse and dense and suited for undersea combat. Her pearliescnt scales shimmer brilliantly in the moonlight and her treasure is a pearl lifted the mouth of heaven. At night she sings sonorous melodies that reverberate around every ocean of the world. The wind hugs the water in a effort to be near her and the stars see her and shine brighter for her show and the earth comes together in a circle so they can more closely be intertwined with her serendipitous intonations. At the exhale of her breath the world shutters she may never sing again. And the cries pile on top of the sobs and the world moans together until like the sun that’s just to rise, you feel the sudden illumination of her presence back in your life, lightning up the dark recesses of you heart that had been quardoned off long ago. Sing Angel, Sing for me please, sing for my heart, my life, the wind, the stars, sing.
I see the way you look at me. I can practically read your mind you want to fuck me so bad.