A foot upon the far-reaching pedal of misshapen dreams – careening endlessly, dilapidated and gloriously

Fucked with her funky soul
She’s a whistling girl and he holds her hazardous hand in his

She aside handsome he – fixated in venomous portraiture of their ambiguous own – promiscuous and evil, decidedly, deliciously gregarious at playing, preying, play-pretend

Right here, right now
HERE WE SIT WITH A DIM VIEW OF A GRIM F-U-T-U-R-E

Copying and pasting til our faces feel real
A pair of caffeine-swilling imbeciles with time on their side and pain to gain for their reckless reasoning again
They don’t wanna be your best friend but for your long-lost lover
Treasured and torn all in one go …

These ripples of homegrown blame sure do feel posthumous

To digress and to finally saviour and silently see … the birds atop misguided bees
To feel fiercely free midst this dance in their chain-locked hands

And so their wheel turns vehemently enthused, refuses to stop and places itself at sway-pretend again

Forget about houses and cars, here we all are caring til we breathe upright and fair unsightly

This appears to be – their living seething shadow-less vehicle
All in, these sins are scramming and screaming by the lease of the bleed

She’s got the poison and he’s got the pills to spill upon their overgrown graves
Big fish and little ones all in one go … trying the best that they shan’t

She held the rhythm whilst he spat upon her rhyme – a rabbit in his nocturnal and twisted headlights, one of  an unforgettable kind

Glass goes up right round … and his face falls down