Through the whispers of a kiss,
Misguided video kite flying blissfully ignorant of this,
Double life tragedy,
An unreachable majesty,
Of first impression dissatisfaction and no love actually,
Or one who's too cute to fall for your imagery,
Sick of hearing soppy similes,
Sucker symbols and sentimental soliloquies,
Angels ate my face and gave me this grimace,
Dwelling with the devil's delinquents influenced my appearance,
Fallen archetypes of valor and prestige,
Resurrected by the words of the assassin's creed,
Memories are paintings hung up by despair,
As I drift in this blizzard taking in more cold air,

The beast cobbler somber suited to putrid minions,
And picked apart the whiskers of death and scribed a diction,
"He hath no fury than an arcade weapon scorn"
Tis I blasted through virtual vitriol levels with life unborn,
Licking the literature scriptures and propagandizing dilemma,
I trained Cerberus into a vicious *******,
Biting heathens with the molars demons fear to run from,
Too **** farmer to sail away from my problems,
I reaped too many seeds to bleed,
So all your fuming won't do absolute **** to me,
I'm a dark stepchild of instability and fertility,
Shallow stocking delinquent seeking fire with an angel match cracking humility,
I'm a typhoon buffoon with Hanna-Babara tendencies,
**** with me and get a lethal dose of dynamite and Trojan Horse remedies,

These lines experimental but elemental to your mental,
My creativity,
Will never submit to the minimal,
Isotopes subliminal penetrating the simple,
Similes send criminals to infiltrate your biochemicals,
Infected stanzas with stacked syntaxes sickness,
My subconscious semiautomatic and stimulated,
Formulate semblances of Leviathan illuminated,
It's a tragedy my soul's has become a victim of gravity,
Now my temples been raided,
My nirvana's disseminated,
And I've contemplated annihilation of self,
Picturing my end as a senile senior citizen,
With no one by my side,
My mind can't complete a sentiment,
Remembering has become my source of a smile,
But it's making me even more curious to taste the end of this projectile,

Check me out this hospital of woe,
Just use your love as knits to sow,
My wounded heart punctured with hurt,
Clean me with empathy and wash off the dirt,
I'm not to fond with medicine or needles,
But I can shut off fear just to be there near you,

I know angels fly,
But you're too close to me,
And I haven't prayed that much,
For your kindness to pursue,
I heard from the radio,
God was missing an angel,
But ****** I bet my life,
That that angel was you,

I've acquired the dullest of modern memories,
Circle around the complex of life to find its asymmetries,
And I'm hung,
Like calender's past its prime,
Marked into a blockaded day with numb sun,
So now I'm emotionally fertile with moonlight in my gun,
Aim them at the lions that maul the flesh from my sanity,
Turn them into hairy cherubs for bliss tyrannical anarchy,

Give me a command,
And I'll obey without restraint,
The wilting between my lines,
Are like the lead to my paint,
The music to my angst,
The fuel inside my tank,
But no matter if I'm free,
I'll always lay in front of your tank,
Acknowledge me,
Properly honor me with serenity and love,
Instead of meeting the boot,
Like a 100-legged bug,
So color me passionate,
Because my ashes flourish with glitter,
Till I tie a hammock between the sun and the winter,

She survived the thunderhead of domestic disturbance,
She never planned on becoming the black sheep's shepherd,
Of her own meaningless drawings and poetry creations,
The demon split dimensions and how feeds on her patience,
That was before the red slits on her pearly white wrists,
The teddy bear thrashing and her hormonal cyst,
But that gave inspiration to climb out the abyss,
And continue writing what she liked and would love to coexist with,
Psychedelic language,
Her graphite's anguish,
Persisted to punish the the notepad with poetry painted,
But yesterday was cloudy,
And the short hours it felt,
That's when I realized I was writing about myself,