He can't stop thinking. Gambling dirge. Buried in his money. Accountant undertaker. His feelings got shoved back down his throat and now she spends her days blaming him for destroying her. You had me. Will you get me back? Will you paint me black? Disowning what is not his. Used. The smell of industry. Whistling blues songs. September is dying. Well I have faith that you will disillusion me so many times that I'll stop feeling and bury myself in memories. Lonely heart pounding in a puddle of misery. Fuck you for being you. Mid. Night time holiday. Mixed imagery with a dash of poison. It's leaving a scar. I forgot to remind you to. Somebody elses love. Sails off into the distance. Dusted for signs of life. Original desire expired.

Miracles at midnight. Calm deliveries. Armed dialogue. Sweet thoughts on the crest of insanity. When I profess my beliefs, my heart is still. Quit fighting me. Suddenly he has abrasions. Suddenly he is not himself. Wayward rituals. The edge of desire waiting to gun you down as you walk through the front door in your black suit and red tears.

Illiterate dream. She can't breathe. Let her know that you hate her. Reload your emotions. No hope for her future. If only she would have listened to your Crown Royal laden breath. Paper dreams for a paper man. Throw your heart into the swamp. Take nothing. Leave a prayer. When you show me how you do not care, does it make you feel better? Her locks are made of miracles. No sadness in her eyes, only a superiority complex. Fever. You give me nausea. No cure for what you see. How did it feel when you stabbed me in the heart? Nightmares. Tears you milked from me. Drag your body home. Dig into. Fragments of your visions are seeping through the walls. When will you stop seeing?

Pulled his sarcasm out of his ear and put it into the lake. In the lake the sickness spread.

Reject.

Authority dwindling. Only guilt now. Standing in a bathtub full of greed.

Tatoo your itinerary on her back. Smell her grieving. Love nothing. Buzzed by the beast. Worship no longer. Idols for the idle. Load the pain into your eyes and then drown.

Submerged.

Everything. Negatives. Copies. Carbon copies of your feelings are being faxed. More

No.

Back to the irony. Drilling.

I can hear

When will

The/break/filling/metal/void

Avoid avoidance. No reason for your

Place it

IN

Rice factory in the wind crumbles to the ground.

Tasteful photographs of your soul so as not to offend.

Do not want to affect anything.

Effect.

Defect.

Deflect the criticism.

Nothing we can do to numb your ideas. So he carried you and now he won't because what's the point if he doesn't feel the same and if he doesn't feel the same he cannot reason his way out of the hole he has put himself in because the ladder never existed and we were never here.

Nineteen reasons to quit dreaming.

Such a little drama boy. Pocket full of stones. Lungs full of air. Ever wonder. It feels. How. I bleed from the. Lower. Yes. Lower. Yes. Destruction. She wants to murder you. I can see it in her eyes. The fact remains. It does remain. She is not a man. Drenched in your blood.

Choked on his heart. Scratches the void. Scream because it hurts. You hurt, you hurt, you hurt because you are the only one. Withdrawn from the human race. Your last disgrace was not your best. Recital at seven, this is not your best. Not meant for life. Bombs full of strife and meaningless rhymes. Secluded. End sentence, end life. On his own. The war never won, the morgue never sold. Two in a row, but there is no redemption. Learn to bleed. End paragraph and do the math. Progress. Letters to no one because you are alone. Douse me with fire, then ask me to have faith. What do you want when you carve my organs out? The birds, they all have flown out. And you wonder why you can't be trusted. You wonder why I want to murder you.

Where the mutants meet. Where the tigers swim. Drafted into insanity. Reinstated by the void. They will be there to meet you. He has no reflection when he feels ill. Paste your feelings to the wall. I'm sick . . . of the noise.

Looks like maybe you're the man. I'm not sure. I can't see buried underneath all of these lies.

A ghost.

Follows. The heart is atrophied. I feel.

Bring me back to life. All I need is water.

Hydration. Evacuation. A river of nonsense. Broken. End. Broken. Primitive dreams. Expel. Makeshift irony for your makeshift heart. Not attached. Not participating. Rabelais hates you. He knows where you live and if he were alive he would slit your throat while you sleep.

I'm to blame.

Don't feel ashamed about all of the people you forgot to kill. We can always come back and you can kill them then. I need you to need.

When the sky falls.

Infertile passion. It's sad what you did.

A gun explodes inside his skull where the sniper lays dormant waiting for his cue. He was a good man.

I dream like a giant hoping that you are prepared to live with the guilt that comes with all of the people we will crush through this universe of imagery.