[big baby]

there's a..

red dwarf fighting a black-hole ready to eat me
dissect the inside of my pen, where ash grows tethered beneath
the mass knows, the malice that backhands this skeleton species
youll find remnants of relic of this deeply defined, delicate e.t.
cavalier lifestyle, the atmosphere. where sadness smears nice smiles
in half a year, went from happy tears to having fear light fires
almost perverted with how unconcerned I’ve grown as a man
flirt with death. skeleton slow dance. holding his hands
smile so they see it, hold smog in my lungs
breathe it out. smoke clears. Simon de Beauvoir
polished the earth that you stand on, apologies worth
sleep paralysis, demon passage. toss and you turn
your most perfected distraction. go on as you were
cause I’ll never be anyone’s anything or something deserved
just a deserted desert. destructive. berserk
deconstruct me to dirt, I’m your diversionary malpractice
inadvertent adversaries off these Shakespearean actions
the never intended directors cut. a roll of film wasted
the point of this, is concave. an oil drill placement.
boiled blood painted roses, and the soil in my bones’ clay
another day, another doctrine. shooting in my two cents
living tooth an nail through this truth is hell nuisance
it’s malnutrition. can’t help be hopeful for sanity’s sake
where vanity takes a backseat to this passionate fate
if it’s real, then it’ll never be over
tell that to the bartender that’s mixing my gin and my soda
debonair devil. gallant gentleman
savor the cobra conection
tuxedo to the morgue. I regret your intentions
tailor made bowtie, rose colored coated inflection
stared into space. untie your fingers with mine under sheets
lower our voices. silence is the most powerful scream
poignant as the cotton ripples forming through comforter spread
where dozens of sins lie underneath ruptures of thread
droplets of wine cover cream satiny fiber
cabernet fire. carmine cobblestone twine
sit at the logged inferno. untucked collared shirt in regression
how much warmth we made over embers we directed
we fucked here before. fingerprints on the glass
commanded the sun, as the wick melted the wax
shot arrows of love with an Aries through summer
under cancers’ July over candlelit colors
nirvana doesnt exist in this squander of thought if you arent elected
the devil wears prada its because you modeled for them
this is just misjudgment of honest broads. a cautious indifference
treating genuine women with impartial disinterest
devilish debonair, cavalier distinction
hemisphere changes with its Australis emissions
so now i stare at the stars. i hate that im this
paint constellations with apathetic detachment
atmospheric phenomenon, in hindsight it was madness
so now we wait
wait for the skies to rip limelight while i cascade into blackness
damn it


BB