Tagged by a shape-shifting shadow at the iced window, she’s been up all of the night inside of her mind
Adolescent florescence’s making it feel so unimaginably real, sensical of the nonsensical again – the/se lady-like forgotten smarts of hers forever aided by the fond circle of the shadow of silhouette pronunciation and insinuating pickings
And a branch leans on in and attempts to reaches and to land
An impressive knuckle-w/rap upon her listening, window-pained existence
Her tits are real even if her lips are not
Fashioned from these inner-within (im)perfections of hers and she finally begins to desirably disguise all of her live-long vices, scars, frightfully moonlit and beneficially sidled by
Her nocturnal, noise-arisen dreams again – this is not a pen and neither is it for the faint-of-heart
Living for life while withering away either way pushed and deliciously pulled forth forward re-prioritised til it prolongs itself and inevitably, invitingly sometimes goes…
A little bit like this = desirably fired at the underbelly of hip or otherwise insurmountable to the La Mac-arena dance on hot legs
And she appears to absolutely motherfucking let herself be = superficially intertwined, twinned with his monstrously inescapable mind, this is he with nOCD.
Says it is so fucking immovable and the lights are flashing at the bare-naked basement of their borrowed and twin peaked brains
This is all of it e-d-i-t-i-n-g itself toward the processed bones of their amalgamated beings, and all awhile she writes with her life
While he tends toward liking to sleep near the nether regions of her favourite, most suggested dreams – and together they are decidedly impenetrable even when troubled waters arise to arrive and carry with them oceanic waves which wash away at the cobwebs near their learned brains