this shirt screams “i’m not still fucked up from last…

watching horror films on vhs with gramma saturday nights

in the name of what whispers we sing softly the final song of the end of the w… as a lullaby to each other and minor melodies pass over our l…

if significant to one and not to another maxims adages cliches

man that lives to yearn sips at the tit of poison no will, but to die

we fly down the highway looking for the next bar open on C… we each do a line and head on in flirt with lonely girls and take bumps in the bathroom

his wings are lazy buzzing around the same pond a fly scared to change

I like to pretend in alternate uni… where everything is almost the sam… just different in a few spots under another sun the two of us worked

in the final moments of dusk you r… a last grab at redemption to no possible avail toward a jury of stars and the judgement of the moon

it’s just the memory of the sky blue and maybe it only seemed so blue because it was the first time i no…

i wanted to vote but looking at the ballot i wondered “for what?”

plenty more on that beautiful head of hers she’ll never even know it’s missing

sunlight makes love to the earth an orgasm of photosynthesis from the heat of their passion tulips are born

when it is most impossible to be there for yourself