Constipated Confinement

turning down the volume that is what i am thinking as i am blinking grabbing the last bottle of cream soda that is my mental escape from a wrath i cannot comprehend imagining you naked and ready to go down that is the way i uplift myself while you are bringing me down the grenade in my brain is on the brink of exploding the balloon of my self esteem is at the dangerous edge of imploding the merger of the two is unseen due to the sour blindness of the moment the spittle burns like a near death experience on Christmas day the accusations decapitate like a merciless machete moonlighting the end is the beginning of the minuscule additional our love has been uprooted by a hurricane so petty and unnecessary speechlessness post descension is the new loquatious bye bye sweet valentine era....it was nice pre-post-construction