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Back slider slack jar skeleton key holding frame over old veneer cement factories. Nicotine fitting my way through sleep deprivations in a city hum near silent reverie. Wishes are prayers are mockeries against this ever present night playing jingle-jangle inside a rib-cage ranting death is near and unescapable and all mumbles and agreements to side mouth I do spout "Yes, yes, yes my dirty little death is very fucking nigh."

Take

Zinc Sun and waves crashing small children cannibalizing hello's rupture shame spiralling poets and their attempts at redundancy he's two libertarian mouthfulls deep of a summer time dog zone whilst laughingly dodging manic exercisers.

Forgotten all you have to get where you when you had meet too get a gift for as New friend

And stretched upon a back set drunkard interposed a trust break lecher on that romantic's night that you beset her. Is the stairwell a backseat or the unsaid word. This self destructing has capillaries.