Who’s barely intact? Two hundred thousand nails puncture veins in my back, whether they’re human or metal remains to be asked. Yellow pages, your name severs sapience, saps like heaven’s angels. Vessels fray then collapse. Lord father, elevate us. Why am I so fixated on the past? Separate fact from fiction. Eradicate my relapse, rehabilitation at its fanciest, pinky out to brush ash from a cigar. If love lasts, then it’s farce. My last love seems so far.
May I have the pleasure of introduction without it seeming covert, or open my mouth to talk something while we’re eating dessert? Feelings deserted you, conservative dealings in cursive. From telekinesis to hypnosis, I barely feel what your words meant. Sink your teeth delicately into the flesh that’s corroding. If you feel that it’s urgent, please feel free to unload. It’s not you or me, my dear. The psychosis, developments fleeting, camera obscura bleeding negative print. The lightest exposure came from your chest. Was it a dark heart or delicate skin? Delicate skin.