She was irresistible, irreplaceable make one false move and put your place on hold; The backbone of desire pumping through the wire, set her loose & watch her flow, candle wax oozing, resisting control our flavored dispute; set conversation on mute, but I still hear you in my head every time the light turns red, I can still feel you on my skin at the end of the day when my patience drags thin. Coddle this inside its synthetic cradle, no one knows the secrets a day holds but I know how to win & slowly begin again, after arrows are dragged with lead, speaking from a place of dread & coaxed from a respite of poor taste, Twin mattress replaced with everything I couldn't say, pending transactions we swept away to be posted at a later date; I'm keeping my warnings slow and my feet above my head Twin mattress replaced with everything I should have said.
right hand - cack hand misinfected an inebriant a heat of intoxicants 'Recover Your Presence Of Mind' i don't even have my mattress raised from upon the floor spilled drinks moulds and pages soaked to the boarding snoring in spores infested with messages in nest with it all best to withdraw
the artist the 'madder than' the inebriant right ? can one practice as a sober ? I've never wanted to create more or been this capable before...or are the results missing something ? something splayed askew scatty splattered hellish even ? is it the reader ? will we not be pleased with the results without some evidence of a soul in suffering bewilderment and numbing isolation?