And now when I wake up in the frosted mist
Wild strawberry clogs all these vague pores of my wrist
So excruciatingly chosing my way
Through the folie of following and fierceness of hay
But there is nothing at all
In this quazy-quashed world
Only your purest fall
And my bias foretold
There is nothing to feel
Except distortion of bind
Except obscure painfull zeal
So crooked and fended and blind
Couse you've shown me how
To cut the retina froth
And I can't stand
The victim I was
And I can't stand
The blade I'll deform
If it will not end
This urging qualm
Barely breathing, I section the streets
As you quaff this venom that streetlights excrete
An endless quiet ripping of edges of void
You want to feel poisoned
Destroyed
And devoid
So on the bus stop of London I'll find you. I know
How to cut our eye-froth. And how to say no.
09.06.15
Addictive Red Blink
© Copyright: Банка Альвеол, 2015
Свидетельство о публикации №115061400591
Свидетельство о публикации №115061400591
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