There was a time and, undeniably, one such sickeningly individualistic place, wherein each aside every next singularly insufferable person could toast and neatly breathe and feel

The other person’s strenuously elongated face – when the blessed taste was simply, inordinately, unbelievably awe-inspiring to whichever person saw it to be worshiped ship-shape fit

We shoot from the trigger-happy hip either which way forth-forward, disguised aside alarmingly excused by these paramilitary eyes, feel freer than free to join us, please…

This seemingly so thistle-thorn instance of bone-dry ours, fear not and separate yourselves entirely to bullet-spray atop of and prey that we do begin to outlandishly pour again… for we appear to steer ourselves clearer than crystal clear, over-qualified right by…

A direly set life-less-ordinary, contrary to popular transatlantic belief shall have it, we tear all of our rip-torn yet unanimously secretive selves… quite gladly away

The enemy will always pay… yet forever tantalised PTSD within – coaxing all of our worst kept sins back to the re-surfaced brink again
No such thing as free-will, instilled to fail either which way we go pale-faced forth-forward – heavily ensnared

Blink and you’ll miss us all

With each of our eyes – which carries with it a concentrated demise, placed rapturously unto another unknowing person’s next sudden movement
Borne into this world to inevitably lose, albeit altogether fair spectacularly

Bedraggled for one soul reason, I’ll be the hero, you be my zero, please…

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