Stranded on Lonely Street my rags gone in with the wash my dress shred into pieces by an ugly violent man come hither young lady ‘oh just *******!’ following me I stop and stare ‘yeah what?’ he crawls backwards then runs across roads into the council buildings.
Gutter *******-my rot stench emanating from every piece of my core.
I am crud saved dregs from my mother’s hands rubbing the trash through my clothes. Wash hands Miriam every day: to ignore such warnings!
Now dirtbag I am killing stones uppity on L. St. We hover like lost lovers hurrying our parts number two the other half but they never arrive.
Back under the bridge. Shoot up some nice H; it soothes soul cleans out head rot rest sleepytime. Dark I stare upwards looking at the milkyway a-crashing star coming towards me! ****!~ Help! BOOM!