Dribbling lines in the blood-stained sand are but fleeting nicknames in the churning larvae construct of time of human super imposition laid upon the confused face of iris green and supple oceanic skin and cracked white decimate teeth which has no name other than metamorphosis beauty or absolute soul incarnate
Tag: meaning
Hot Také
DRiNK
your own melancholy music
pushing pushing you further into a self inflicted pit
of who the fuck
and what and why and when
you’ll be ruler straight
as narrow as a hot wheels track
bending forever round
a preconditioned hairpin
you hope will, one day
straighten out.
Christ bury the shock
the day you realise
you’re going in
endless devastating precipitated circles.
haahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha
help us please.
Look upon this plea
and give our spines a wholesome hug
a hug we’ve been begging for
for half a generation, and one
that maybe we can
pass on
beyond our feeble arms.
RJP's Vernacular 