A fleeing dream so I bow my head in homage
no suffering no more, you've painted our last hour
she painted my true colors and the water works are real and the water color dripping from her slits surreal so literal my ******
pause--
is it right to call my lord a drug my lord I question your judgment,
Your words your core I judge is war or warmth
or worms, you were she was an apple to sight the but cost of love-- too expensive
shot of Circo now I'm way too aggressive,
I park my home parallel my clone and walk past the Dive Bar where we met regressing psychologically,
eyeing me from another table
her social disciples that follow her and rival my every breath
I take a sip reminded of that flavor, her lips I'm awoke since 3 days after my last fix my vice is her a grip
Who The **** Was That, That walked Pass?!
clashing personalities, flammable as gas I'm corroded
shotgun, empty,
as a weapon with no motive
no navigator-- nor a map to my emotions shes coding I'm losing it,
I'm losing her my portrait
promises are broken I promise my undoing is a loose interpretation I use her for my benefit
clever for I love you
I loathe you makes more sense
so who am I to judge with an empty box full of promises intended as a tattoo
her legs on the table
I say my final prayer:
"for supper I will have you" wine hold the water I'm prepared for the last stroke.
© 2015 by S Fraz All rights reserved. No part of this document may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of S Fraz
