the tourist
Blue Crack Addict
- Joined
- Dec 25, 2003
- Messages
- 27,919
variable execution. the torn and the
fallen. smiles
forever extending. into the n ext su
n. where the warmth melts your skin. and the eyes see through and through. cordial
welcomes. surly manners.
dropt the baby on its head,
sang to it and now it's dead.
dreamer fell awake. copper hands, incindiary. a blu
e glow of lightning bolt. crossed out
mouths. rags made of dolls.
sew your head on. it falls off again.
floating through opaque cloudy morning. lost in fog of thought. shut off that fucking radio. it kills wi th every burst of static.
trim down. eat less. run more. drink more fuc king water. you know how it works.
tickle the back of your throat with your pudgy little fingers and the world will become a better place for you.
as you gag and vomit in a quiet midnight panic attack.
scalpel cuts your heart right out,
crying in agonous scream and shout.
dinner time. watch those commercials.
fucking envy.
drop another size. be the
thin. float on the fucking clouds, my love. another
tap. another
rubber band around your elbow.
the sun goes down in the evening, the moon hanging by a thread.
the clouds part. and the evening is so
fucking beautiful.
cardiac arrest. bedpans and syringes,
this beautiful mess you are in,
beeping machines. comatose dreams of flys and atom bombs in rubber cases black. thirsty again. hungry again. at again. smack, sm ack, bang, boom, bang.
a wilted rose. and a flat line.
fallen. smiles
forever extending. into the n ext su
n. where the warmth melts your skin. and the eyes see through and through. cordial
welcomes. surly manners.
dropt the baby on its head,
sang to it and now it's dead.
dreamer fell awake. copper hands, incindiary. a blu
e glow of lightning bolt. crossed out
mouths. rags made of dolls.
sew your head on. it falls off again.
floating through opaque cloudy morning. lost in fog of thought. shut off that fucking radio. it kills wi th every burst of static.
trim down. eat less. run more. drink more fuc king water. you know how it works.
tickle the back of your throat with your pudgy little fingers and the world will become a better place for you.
as you gag and vomit in a quiet midnight panic attack.
scalpel cuts your heart right out,
crying in agonous scream and shout.
dinner time. watch those commercials.
fucking envy.
drop another size. be the
thin. float on the fucking clouds, my love. another
tap. another
rubber band around your elbow.
the sun goes down in the evening, the moon hanging by a thread.
the clouds part. and the evening is so
fucking beautiful.
cardiac arrest. bedpans and syringes,
this beautiful mess you are in,
beeping machines. comatose dreams of flys and atom bombs in rubber cases black. thirsty again. hungry again. at again. smack, sm ack, bang, boom, bang.
a wilted rose. and a flat line.
