Something sidled and strung up til resolutely swimming snarled vicious within and he feels it – all of it and like a piercing addiction process harpooned through the opinionated heart
And he simply cannot tear himself away from this typically typified dereliction, and she surely feels it too…
By the snaked quake of this time again early-a.m. constanced and curtain-peeking curtailment

Speaks for itself really, when bedraggled and misshapen dawn masquerades and meanders itself back into venomous play

And tends to draw an inescapably skittish picture… and they can, shall, should somehow appear as the naked neanderthals that they are and to be the other cursed person’s make-believe somebody

And to have it all and in a most romantic and lacklustre way
Downright deception pays miraculous dividends indeed, wherein the mixed-up idiot-savants of our outcast century are pledging notorious sequential allegiance to a feck-sake feeling for depressed paraplegia

Angel-dust permitted in an instanced instance, he will bury his botox-ed head right by agony’s doubtlessly boxed-off, insipidly angular and suggestively correctified summarise, would take none of the other back – glory-filled, thrill-seeking magnanimous moments wherein it all seems to create to make insurmountable kinds of secondary sense again

Know when you’re holding a cigarette and a beer and the only fear you feel is the fear for the Dandy-Rose bee who smirks via honey-soaked envy nearby… that’ll be me

No such gain whatsoever wherever nor anywhere within at all – they’ve been left bountifully bereft aside undeniably falling, failing, flailing…
To be patrolled and petrified by a diamante-driven lifestyle and down upon blessed knees – whereby the tattoo of beatnik imprisonment speaks – praying for a funny kind of immaculate arrival

These thick-skinned sons-a-bitch sophomore butterflies – who now appear to be like scatter-crashed moths by way of pedantically prearranged penance
Where are these prophecies!?

And it hurts like hellish high-waters to attempt to touch the tantalisingly broached surface by way of maniacal and drug-addled discomfort

Have to ask though, wherein lies enough!?

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