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he knew of the evil he heard he thought nothing of it he preached it be fiction be slander be falsehoods of malice intent be against his angel draped in fur be it death so soft, he knew of the evil he saw he wore shades with his violet suede jacket he was blind to the violence be it the ball & chain of those before him be it his fate to lay in the stray dog's bed be it his turn to tip the glass of wine be it blood spilled, he knew of the evil he spoke he stands in memory in lust-lined letters he wrapped his chords around it, beating he ripped it out slowly in greed & wrath be it a reminder of failure be it the astral curse of the harlot be it a trophy to spark humiliation be it the return of the drowning sensation, he stood before evil & gave it a home he said sinister tasted sweet he spun sugar into cinder blocks he said cherry cola was out of season be it the cavities of lost love be it novocaine be it something rotten from the start,                                                                                  but it tasted so sweet                                                                             in prison, no one waters                                                                                              the cherry tree                                                                                 but he tasted so sweet                                                         be it my sweet tooth that buries me.
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Jun 19, 2018
Jun 19, 2018 at 9:47 PM UTC
the candyman
he knew of the evil he heard he thought nothing of it he preached it be fiction be slander be falsehoods of malice intent be against his angel draped in fur be it death so soft, he knew of the evil he saw he wore shades with his violet suede jacket he was blind to the violence be it the ball & chain of those before him be it his fate to lay in the stray dog's bed be it his turn to tip the glass of wine be it blood spilled, he knew of the evil he spoke he stands in memory in lust-lined letters he wrapped his chords around it, beating he ripped it out slowly in greed & wrath be it a reminder of failure be it the astral curse of the harlot be it a trophy to spark humiliation be it the return of the drowning sensation, he stood before evil & gave it a home he said sinister tasted sweet he spun sugar into cinder blocks he said cherry cola was out of season be it the cavities of lost love be it novocaine be it something rotten from the start,                                                                                  but it tasted so sweet                                                                             in prison, no one waters                                                                                              the cherry tree                                                                                 but he tasted so sweet                                                         be it my sweet tooth that buries me.
vaube
Written by
vaube
Jun 19, 2018
Jun 19, 2018 at 9:47 PM UTC
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