the Stockholm Syndrome Sunk into her life witha.Solid.stance.
      So much So, when She began to drown,
      his life flashed before her eyes.
                (Jesus walked on water, she sunk in an underwater dance)

sure u complicated
or are you switching out for makeshift?
giving it those evil eyes, cause you know that you're always right
,but really, you are living through a facelift disguise
.

swap it out for thrift clothes, shrink down those clone robes, switch up those mangoes, time tells to thyself!
make it out of stitches, match it or just mix it, more is what we want right?  bang! be careful because dollars bite!

sure u complicated
or are you dumping it down the drainage
when no one looks their eyes? cause you know what you need to hide
;we all know! We see through that stiff mystic disguise


a simple insecurity, a mind develops normality (well), age is just a number, spilling from the half full cup, you see?
a mind's imagination, a simple imitation, jealousy is a compliment of the third degree, don't you see? (Penis size aint make belief.)

take all of your tax, dump it down the trash, or tie it to your waist and put it on display!
or just drink it all away, a lovely trip to Greece in may, Europe is the place to stay, it never splits or goes away?

sure u complicated
or are you switching out for makeshift?
giving it those evil eyes, cause you know that you're always right
,but really, you are living through a facelift disguise


sure u complicated
or are you dumping it down the drainage
when no one looks their eyes? cause you know what you need to hide
;we all know! We see through that stiff mystic disguise

enough said.

I feel like, nobody prays for me (
nobody to go to the ball
no/body after a car brawl
      when legs are separated like the splitting of some butter
      and no one could love that face, not even your mother,
      when the bed don't know your name, you feeling smothered?
      when pillowtalk turns into suffer-
                                                         ­        -cation, it's simply overrated. Those who talk to much
       Silence those who sit and think,
       And those intellectuals judge the ones
       [inbetween,] cutting over the kitchen sink

WHAT A MACHINE, MACHINES DON'T HAVE DAYDREAMS
nobody in the cemetery when
no/body is left to bury.

I feel like, nobody prays for me...
please?
i'll pray for every/body if you let me save my/body from the harm of having no/body
PLEASE! pray for me?
, no one to kiss your/body, cause nobody loves no/body.
)
sorry.

persona - Neitz. - from perspective of my work "A Radiohead's Pilgrimage"
ezra warhol Apr 14

filter tips [between your] finger tips,
          lean right in for
a cigarette kiss
          &
i'll brush your hair right off your eyes,
touch.your.neck
           &
carress.your.thighs.

extract from my Epic poem Andy + Co.
ezra warhol Apr 6

don't lift-away
because i want.to.stay!
    on the moon, my/dear
and walk the moon, with you/dear

    don't lift-away
like a balloon.in.space
    don't fly-away
don't moon-walk-away!

ezra warhol Mar 30

do not:
              be afraid of what !does! make a bump in the night.
do:
              be afraid of what !ought! to, but specifically doesn't.

ezra warhol Mar 30

/muffled collection of chattered gossip.

i may mutter, one last collection of words,
But my raspy breath may refuse them to be heard.
So I sit and ponder what to do,
On the bed, bloodshot eyes run through,
They pierce the soul of whom? and when,
Sad to the core, like a rotten apple in Eden.
The bed gleams white with an eerie glow,
But my skin runs as scarlet as winterly snow.
People crowd, crowd they do,
So much crowd, so little move.
They talk and chatter as a family affair,
Take no notice, I am absent from there.

(Like a painting in an art gallery I wait,
But like a painting in an art gallery
many underappreciate.
No one dares talk to me,
If I muttered I might break that silence, you see,
butthereis
nopoint.
)


I may mutter, one last collection of words,
But my raspy breath may refuse them to be heard.
So I sit and ponder what to do,
The line begins to flatten; through and through.
My head tilts, it aches, it does,
There is no voice from above.
But alas! I've found
I will return to the ground
I just hope my gravestone is not a sappy sound when read aloud,
!Fuck that crowd!

Using my strength, using my might,
I grab some coffee from Eve('s hand) on the right!
I may as well take caffeine and get hyped
In the split second before I sleep every day and night!
[Famous last coffee, my legacy]
Caffeine before sleep usually entices lack of,
nowiwillsleepforeternity.
(&Well;,

I could use the rest.)

SLLLLLLLLLLLUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPP!

Caffei­ne before infinity. &
'ello MrFlatline.

Next page
 
Message