lost it at 18. got
ghost for years. I die a dire death. so cold today so bold at play pops bought
a Benz. at least it seems. we never admit it, born with it,
split in circles. I watch
magnesia I hear micromanage I feel too much. I
dream of one, but Love is terrific, so prurient so lascivious too much for a
man to conceal. they need to live, marriage is for hibernating, monogamy is for
maturity. I act it out, I sin
with tremors, I heard darkness inverts. a beast of a person rolling through
Lynwood, a mythic Senorita. I can’t shake it living like phantoms so
well-behaved. if to adore like dying if to love like a safehouse if to have a
dozen kids. I’d believe in you, I’d croak for you, so much predicament in
secluding you.
a pair of dice a child coming a soul
those years addicted—to science, to Love, never as rich as cleaving during
climax. a tear thicker a number of outlaws, just lost a wilder wilderness.
trying to keep self, trying to adore self, so much loving me involves rejecting
you. can’t uncage desire, so much chemistry, too much attraction. some go to college—many are
anti-college—many need an old persona.
war crimes, desperate to out-breathe Iran, aside a precious soul from
Lebanon. skating into failures, an attempt to remedy failures, one wills at
needs to see an aura drop. I
nibble granite, I eat mica, it was minerals to heal a flesh wound. many had issues, falling underwater,
upholstering misery. a little
dismal a force in despair, so wild how we live happiness. much anguish. it was told: we will
keep our anguish.
