Soon as her hysterical face fell from an outlandishly mixed-up grace, and with it this stricken sense of nakedly awry desperation of delight-filled theirs, and their delectable devil’s been forever waiting again. Pitchfork at affable hand, a sitting, sifting, none-too-pretty mis-match of absolute thunderstruck deception.

Are these preordained people of inexcusable ours. Those comfortable drugs do both poke fun and momentarily work and don’t at all work it out that well for themselves anymore – serene at being subtly stolen away from every one aside absolutely every body known to be quite beautiful, wrestled ’til stretched innumerably amidst utter bouts of repetitive ineptitude, indeed… .

‘Twas few peripheral people who did rightfully realise the real misshapen manner of their merely playfully plagiarised attempts at pandering themselves away from this corrosive self doubt. Natural-born brazen-faced artistic reprobates self-wrangled themselves into these inordinate chaotic proceedings and her constant early am. knicker-less promisingly promiscuous misbehaving’s shall shred her sophomore being there done it all over again, simply say when … .

To lean on in and beneficially lend me a flicked penny, please… oh sweet lacklustre stranger things that have miserly failed at happening. To set the snide-eyed repulsive pulses into scapegoat motion. Mixed-up whispered metaphors which still continue to persist at kissing a tethered Las Palmas lip ’til arduously skipping a sweet Bombita beat.

Predominantly paralysed Spanish monsters of their own dastard-handed delusions who grapple at an altogether forever misplaced malfunctioning system, and destruction holds no comfortable favours and the bone-filled flavours are like stainless, strain-less steel ’til tapped, strapped ‘n’ tangled noisily within a nosy needle. He sees himself in there somewhere someplace specifically vicarious and it feels… .

Horizontally he will reach for the similarly silhouetted etchings of her pitter-patter feet. Describing to his argumentative sellout self the size of the lovelorn crucifix which stitches itself right by the delicious re-entanglement of his lifeless lover’s enlarged freeze-frame eyes. Is this really the twilight of her life!?

The process hurt too much, she much preferring the middle little bits with all of the mixed-up poisonous emotions swimming miraculously within which speaks detrimentally for itself, until… it fail to proceed… at playing catch-up. When to catch her last lassoed breath meant especially everything.

And he’s about to be sent rather riotously sentimental, or rather he will start again at sending himself stereo-typically mental ’til upset-tingly estranged.
‘Tis a billion-and-one braver souls a million-and-one miles from no home who have faced a thousand-and-one far more Splendid Sunshines and come out the other side stronger than these far-fetched, heavenly perceived afterthought of theirs.

Far more self-composed as supposed to decomposed, as will she be anointed for her desperate sins of many. Little real evidence anymore of the true beauty that belies a monstrous mind, baby.