Monthly Archives: December 2013

I place my stuck up evocations near, and I win for no reason, but I try to linger in the burning epiphanies that she drools onto my apathy, and I grin for awhile, though I refurbish organs into similar memories of their peak existences, yet I am fond of quotes occasionally, and I enrich that far too sorted plan with a mischievous decoy, and I cue the film of blurry emotions that she left to me, but I seldom do nothing, so I write, and I import, yet I know of a different methodology, and I plead with my future self for redemption, while ethical cloaks go on sale, and I mitigate aggressively, but I suffer because this provides a framework, and I collapse in gratitude when her illness acts up, but I stay here, numbering the times that life forgives me, and I contract symptoms of bureaucracy, but I wonder along a pleated garment, and I only draw under the influence, though I rank versions of belief, and I pretend to clean dingy areas of our efficacy, yet I have already determined my irreversible style.


I clamp down a blabbering floozy of an idea, but I unravel immediately, though naïveté is persistent, and I gloat to sedentary masters of credit obeying diplomas, but I vacate her perfected imagination, and I linger in jest, yet I am going to die soon, and I proposition a symmetrical trip along her y-axis, though I oppose empathy, and I delete rapidly, but I graze in the knowledge of accidents, though I carefully pick these obsessions that will destroy me fondly, and I grind away, but I usurp your protected taboos, and I repeat this fraudulent identity in disregard of the hazy malfunctions, yet I sense there is nowhere to go, and I cringe at the parade of assuming dreamers, but I give her my twisted neurosis, and I befriend these instincts, while our assignments for sustained confusion get a modern renewal, though I border on treachery, as she finishes another lyric in her head, but I calculate meek trials about polished egos, and I like an overcast sky with expensive mezcal.