I vvant to be yr chocolate covered caramel,
the abrasive hush sound, obtrusive star spangled
banner, polite creeper in the rear view mirror,
the bookmark tucked betwixt
your getaway pages, the *******
and going of change in every season

Let me seep fathoms
below your loose knit fabric
like blood that refuses to dry
but instead

leaks,

splatters, and

spills

to get you high

You won't come back down
until it's time to die
and even then
you're not going anywhere

I am a dream weaver,
destined to be a misconstrued concept,
misunderstood existence, plain and simply
put: complex and self-destructive

A bomb without the hand to light it

A destiny without the God to guide it

I vvant to be yr candy coated lover,
a pristine set of swear words,
a systematic lexicon, a werewolf
in theresheep's clothing.

The absolute pure filth
splattered all over yr royal artist
canvas.