July 2, 2008

Tragedy sweeps and takes some by surprise. As overwhelming as it seems, enduring is a high priority when pain swells the body. Emotional stimulation seems sullen at best when sorting turmoil from everyday syncronocity. Seething panic feathers out to meet distress, screaming for help; bellow for regression and hope for the sweltering–Meltdown and let all aspects of day bleed into the night.


Your gaze pierces thighs to eyes of the passerby. Globes roll back lick the cerebellum for lack of knowledge of what moves on and past the scene before your time. Your voice rings sweet as sour apples rotting below your heart–So tart i would spit it out if ingested, or placed anywhere near these supple lips whispering each word as i spill them out. I lay down the lines of wrath and wraith–Fact, sugar coated to make it easier to bare the taste.


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