Wednesday, December 16, 2020

Traffic Signs

 

as it falls so feral such frightened solace. eyes bubble, defenses increase, such deep blue bass. I reappear in an instance, in sameness I disappear, at some war too evolved to win. I saw knuckles true delicate hands as nevermore a gorgeous apology. upon an ax at an apple so confused by plumb excellence—to venture like villains so variegated too vilified. just words a bit on consignment so callous too concerned. to adore like sinning to register a note such knowingness to survive. at the gravehouse, somewhere beneath dungeons so many wild-fanged-dogs. a small mastiff a larger hound or a three pack of dingoes. I saw a box I casted twine it was pain into a spaceship. so senseless so on point while love announced her pregnancy. such dear politeness, such pride in dying, for many aren’t prepared for the carnival: those clowns in liquor face, those sweets so sour, or nerve-racking vomit. it should be insistence as opposed to a warrant while Love was a bit selfish.

I took life at tales so many antagonists the last at his sanity: a perfect wreckage such palatial pain as underwater peddling. such petit lies or raw omission if but invested for twenty-years. the tear of the diamond, the death of the thunder, while facing the deathless expiration. tucked far into self at some mind out there too mental for sidewalk language. a casual feeling to approach a door sudden screaming such raging voices. to turn around as not to intrude but a stranger is good for sanity. we call it monopoly such myth in cries where we learn by importance: “If one loves us, they won’t mind our deception.”    

it seems simple but here’s a truth, we never believe they’ll love us.

notebooks or news clippings into some peculiar category. so baffled so berated such filth in something bothersome. the perfect mistake those perfect flaws so fragile at the gambling shack. so close it aches, so afar in bewilders, at a traffic sign waiting.  

I’d Save The Reader Years

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