Fabricated is fine, albeit besieged by what’s eerily riptorn and imaginatively fathomed from unimaginably funereal- all of it a haphazard and misshapen and plagiarised mess and her maniacal mannerisms are there (for people) to simply see

Warlord, thumping Delicatessen Girl chest- bleeding right by the screaming brim of grim-some dreams, and these early-a.m. screening days of San Franciscan dis-delight- tantalised by otherworldly design and paralysed by all of these agonised re-awakenings of crazily distasteful hers- are ferociously, thickening-ly, insipidly snaking and blasphemously meandering : too little, sedated too late by all of these uncomfortably uncontrollable and decidedly re-hashable white-lies

Telltale tattlers- they smashed the fucking rattle

And all of a sudden one beautifully Utopian, equally rope-ridden girl relinquishes her wannabe prima-donna throne- the narcissistically primed are oft than not prone to ghostly, ghastly pretension known only to their sub-conscious selves

Evil created of a mistaken, shrinking, sinking, fair regrettable identity and all of it sickeningly piercing to the sawn-off bones of one monstrously livid and neck-breathing being

Dead-locked demons soar to swarm and breathe while carelessly reeling, each of them carefully catering unjustly to their own hungry needs-Down upon her pebble-spattered knees of crumpled destruction
Deplored, a failed-at gain in restoring nature

All of it a case in suicidal point : soon as one such painstakingly hopscotch-ed, miserly-laden, crucifying-ly hidden aside deplorably mismatched brain manages to misbehave again, again, again … and it starts to wholly anoint itself irretrievably insane

And to simply think that she once dreamed of a never-ending bout of imbalanced happiness, only for it to set itself frightfully alight til upsettingly, intricately aflame

And all of this unspeakable, unshakable misery suddenly, insufferably tempers with oneself to tempestuously happening

Alas, a juvenile and adolescent preordained smile will fail yet again … at beneficially welcoming itself to undauntedly knocking upon her locked and shorn door

She will bargain within the far greater reaches of her conscientious self to die so soon as she is dastardly
spoken to

Soon as the impoverished mid-evening sun suddenly opts upon motivationally reprising itself, gainfully arises to suppose to sinfully propose …

To softly close her never-say-die envy-stricken inner eye- inner-wards between til suggestively circulated by disdainfully shameful degrees of inescapable hatred

Darkness cannot and will not ever let itself register nor radiate what’s realistically real- her fairy-grinded funeral as empty and gut-wrenchingly intolerable as a beggar’s bedraggled pockets of a baking hot San Franciscan day

The bitter-sweetened comparisons have been hand-in-hand killing her

Of an age-old, besmirching century of typically pledged, typically jaded reckonings

Yet we never came and braced our balanced and better selves … to take all of it all the way away

– She proceeds to carry butterflies by the still beating wings of her beatnik brain-

And therein, her very favourite and critical friend, only ever her soulfully sabotaged self, lies the truest truth to her bolstered pain

When brilliance catches a wrong kind of flame, it will sit by the fireplace of destruction while it watches the blood drain

They kept telling her her tears were inflamed by otherworldly construction, these snide-eyed and thistle-thorn whispers more oft than not under-utilising a most bountiful brain- accept what’s unacceptable and she will breathe on another level

With her honey-stricken words for her amalgamated weapon- the sixth sense is seething again and, so suddenly soon, she sees something

From nothing

That’ll be the bare-bone brilliance : dancing on ringlets