A yellow-haired individual bargains with his knees for crippled moments in time to take dastard flight again, the straight-standing fight with artistic endeavour
A woman in trouble
A string of red-hot pearls brings with it unanimous and flashing images of driven mistakes albeit comfortably created by way of abrupt, endless and early-a.m. chaotic misbehaving’s
Scrambling to find a footing again
Their sex is on-fire, the misshapen ego-trip
A delusional interview between two stripped and happy-hunting hips
Set to sensationally soar, a duo shall generally adore these sink-beneath-the-sheet days
Brings with it a wishful undercurrent of constant contagion, please – these frost-arisen surround-sounds have been knocking upon his pleading window, creeping and crawling and causing him to swim in a different pool of a better version of his own juices
Steer clear of the unavoidable cesspool
Critical people who are
Equal by way of precious plagiarism and always outsiders
Of complete discomfort and undeniable caffeine-flavoured creation way back inside intertwined by it all a complicated genius cries for his next life
All of it behind closed curtains defined by the fear
Bless the lying naked girl’s heart who sits heaped and monstrously alone in a seriously visual corner wherein it all attempts to make final sense of itself
It has been quite rightly beautiful, a thing of righteous, riotous over-indulgence, they do tend to whisper and say that he aside her make it look like a masterpiece painting, pained and painted til feeling mysteriously, telepathically evil
A tale of post-coital depression, wherein an artist unknown-by-all will forever attempt to bring his woman back to belonging
There appears to be a crack in the shy-lock system, a crew and a cast of crying-shamed people in here too, who have also been working like tasteful crazy to make better versions of themselves make singular sense again
This is the rough-cut scripture of uncertain thankfulness, knife-edged diamonds pledging glistening allegiance to shrieks of spiritual reawakening
The evening is coming to an abrupt ending again and it brings with it a falsified kind of upside-down bliss
Erase the past and smile atop all of your favourite enemies, please
Because we have been waiting for fate to play its last card
Salutary hands and the canvas has been screaming its way back into the region of the early-a.m.’s ether again
