I lived life, done with that.
Casual encounters by myself,
leaving notes on the bar for strangers.
I left you with a sour voice in your ears.dark bodies
You had a few choice words to say to me.
It wasn't anyone's fault.
bright lights,
everyone's FUCKED.
This kiss, this kissDiverging patterns re-emerge with forceful
it's the kiss of death
this bliss, this isn't bliss
I'd like to fuck you as I kill you.
Your neck is so beautiful
remissions of their vapid transitions, collateral
damage enabled in personal relations. Or maybe
just without emotion, forever striving for denial.
Effervescence fueled by some fucking pathos,
some fucking meaning in an otherwise difficult to
translate existential black out.
No comments:
Post a Comment