immaculate, yet procrastination incarnate
facilitating the bastardization of carnage into an onset
of depression and passive aggression lessening all sex...
forcing a reclusive lifestyle and besetting a falseship.
the times that ended up "ugh, shit!" could've been awesome,
but signature quippings are beginnings of autumn...
the fall of us, the leaves and the spring-backs... they're callin.
all because my flaws call on the imperfections of all in.
you're stuck in the walls of my nonsense
this inward anger tearing us down, an implosion befalls friends,
lovers... and any ambiguous pair in the lair of my coffins...
my baggage is well endowed by skeletons in my closet.
__________________
Ahem.
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