bury saint edmond behind the royal exchange

solar powered sob story

in a carnival of tamed speech

screeching in the sweetest ways

igniting this longwinded phrase

you say::

"hey wierdo, whats so funny about being vague?

hey wierdo, whats so cunning about being vain?"

(blue tunes, skewed moods)

(melodramatic sighs)

can we lay together, and heat our knees underneathe the sun?

no words are nessessary unless its to itch your tongue.

but act naturally dont let yourself get twisted.

now you know by naturally i dont mean get, twisted.

youre just my self inflicted wound, post dated for friday afternoon.

you ask "we're satisfied arent we?"

you say "please swear"

oh these blue tunes, we sat on make me ask "how can i swear, when all i can

say is youre the only burden that i bear."

caricature delicious

show us your colors, are they ones ive never seen?

come inside now, your shadow speaks more than you do out there anyway.

we're riding the crest of a wave and its about to break and roll over soon.

my lies are speaking of you and they paint you dead on.

seems like your concience was told to wait outside, wait outside,

cause its balance is in the way of manuvering time.

so instead ill, watch the world become sterile until you realize that:

saturday nights will, become the only holiday junction you should forgo.

congrats, on being tarred and feathered about a dozen different ways but each is

now turning back. a wish that blands this gaze is still hear speaking back.

the wish reads:

crease your closure into a sigh shaped expression

as just another delayed reaction to add to the collection

lets see how uncomfortably landlocked our trip to the sea can be

as we fashion out obsessions over, untouched cups of tea.

the shape of sight is loansome now and so is this unedited rant.

but when im asleep theres no effort,

theres no effort no effort,

ill paint my own skies and the cieling tiles will tell you why

theres no effort no effort,

just non decimal pointed words caked in obsessive fantasies like:

wheelchair explosions.

televangelist

spontaneously splash in the concrete dream room

if youre here alone, then who sent you?

who allowed you to come break me?

with those scents that you know, drain my brain through the nose.

if youre not the clone, then what makes you so similar to the breeze i felt when i

first saw the sun.

just stay still as i navigate through you,

like a tourist from the moon.

or like a tourist from another planets moon.

ive noticed youre breathless.

you look weak in the knees.

comfort is so easy to achieve when youre used to sleeping on a bed of nails,

ill serve as your hammer.

ive noticed im headless.

a failed breech, at ease.

accompishments so easy to achieve when your used following someone elses trails.

you be the televangelist.

 the great magnet

sky breathes lanterns onto our skin,

as we're knodding off in search of a direction.

of anything anywhere where time is obsolete,

and minds bear no wings.

north is south, and east is west.

but compasses speak it best.

my best regards sail through the barren plains,

such a soothing strain.

try to wake celebration, dont wait to late though.

cause if you neglect to look for it,

you'll sleep off fake treasures, and stay awake on bloody gums.

but if you neglect to look for it, you'll reply at the walls.

what a suprise, for your eyes.

suprise.

kites on mute

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