Icicles In a Reciprocated Desert of Blue

it is so cold in the morning everything feels like cacti with acidic points i wonder if i felt like being a volunteer for a new type of acupuncture whatever the heck, it is something i did not expect i find myself feeling like a clown with no warm heartbeat i begin to think of myself as a steering wheel made of solid metal brick i drive you away so hard without regard my whole body is sticky buns gone wrong in the evening the taste of the vibe is sour not sweet i make myself delete and admit defeat the agony is mercilessly antagonizing the pros are all poisonous, feeble attempts like coins i dream of dying with my nose buried between the warmth of your cleavage then again, i have lifetime purgatory with the moniker labelled onanism .... and i ask myself, 'what do i have to lose'....