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'....
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