Knee-deep and mannerly magnetic, this tear-stricken individual with attempted loopholes near where her rancid and awfully awry laces used to be

All hands upon pulsating deck – they played her cards all wrong without ever managing to miss a single trick

Dosed up to the looking-glass of life like a lazy nocturnal neanderthal who shan’t ever cause noise to create anything ever again – up the most of the night vilified and deathly depraved by these untalented sleeping tablets

Oft pushed futile against the underside of her constantly quivering lip, oft than not manically crushed into the side-swiping table which has been forever witnessing her constrained ailments lock horns and creep creep creep

The lightbulb only supposes to suggest so much sometimes…

Blaspheming your trusted nature, wherein little of everything makes compulsive sense
Your mind’s a heavy, empty, amassed and viciously amalgamated black-hole belonging to agonised matter, wherein entrenched, ensconced oblivion invites itself in to feed at the feet of tasty destruction

He came at you like a bus-driving devil – as normal as Normal can be – and carting along with him his next great masterpiece of go-getters, his bounce-about project of misshapen shipment

All of his first-choice and favourite flaming children are backseat intensified while they silently, sensuously withhold butter-knives for bedraggled fingers… and their saliva is dripping like lava-esque fabricated

You. Are. Their. Bread.

And, as it were, you get to unforgettably become the next unsightly and unsuspecting passenger, the unaccustomed fast feast/ultimate in untimely feat – join one, join all

Remember though, the Earth does laugh in flowers, and you are still a living, breathing seed
Even if about to destruct all over again