Apostrophe killer with comfortable foresight – roundabout by way magnificently perturbed at being hell-sent and real
A cracked torso holds no true bounds, a resounded scintilla-tor-effect forever ill-ly equipped
Be the motherfucking zealous one with remote-control reconfigured hips whilst she spent her favourite days in desirable bed
Robust robotic girl and laid out to be riotously under-prepared – to make you feel that your brain will never be your own flamed thing again
Never was too good a thing at taming itself – sellout and recklessly red-ribboned / black at the dart of the ill-perceived heart for utter disapproval
This will need to be a disapproving thing, please let it fucking be otherwise otherworldly and specifically, deliriously ethereal
Flower have the preordained power, please, for one first fuksake time til the next great pretender escalates herself and allows for one last lifelong roar
She’s been motherfucking soaring midst this derogatory upheaval with her contagiously correctified eyes as searingly upside-right-way-down and as hot as the undesirable mid-heat of the wild Antarctic snow
Toe-to-Eskimo toe
Right around-about the corruptible corner – therein there appears to be but a ten-hundred-foot truck boulder and she will dive atop its metallic and glistening foresight for never-ending d-e-a-t-h – near the darkening underpass, wherein her edges of recklessly inopportune reasoning breathe just as gently as she shall ever shan’t have it
At. Last.
Run, little Rabbit, Run.
Her ass is his. And it’s a thing of human inactivity after all.
Suburban sprawling and starting at being comfortably numb again.
And the pen is being rectified til readily refilled til perceptively steadfast at being decidedly dastard-handed – to resolve it all and for one last next great heaven-sent time
