Ruinous wretch.
Rainbow slipstream.
Never been punished.
And for that matter,
Probably never will be punished.
Ingrained pugnacity, pink slip placement complex
Makes me sick.
Roadblock head, square and alarming,
Take from it the bouncy castle whir reverberating inside the walls
Of pretentiousness.
Take from it the apoplexy that draws no small amount of catalyst into its dire chamber.
Sometimes none at all.
Take from it the hypocrisy and the second set of lines orbiting the clamorous hooves.
And you are left with a robotic nuisance-
Father, Father, if only Mother were more like you,
With an eye for a malleable mass,
And with a minty resolve.
Mother, the bringer of eggs,
And where eggs crack, the basket softens.
Mother did crack,
And the fractures ran doglegged, cracking, spreading, unrelenting, disease.
Living.
Lining with self-impressed toxin the inner insulation of the skull,
Where candles of epiphany burn down to streaks of insignificant wax,
Lyrically impaired,
Lost in a city sea of lights and reflections from that fluorescent arse.
Fake in its glow, artificial air
Musk around the unwitting family of Frankensteins.
Foul electricity.
Great White Shark pupils.
Ears deafened by an envelope of cacophony.
The Hall of Mirrors a Narcissistic smokescreen, these reflections leave me awake and choking,
In the midst of gutless authorisation.
Invaders' footprints take the longest to wash from the carpet,
Especially when sun-bleached in the eyes of the blind.
I am awake and choking, dagger stiller beneath my pillow.
Rainbow slipstream.
Never been punished.
And for that matter,
Probably never will be punished.
Ingrained pugnacity, pink slip placement complex
Makes me sick.
Roadblock head, square and alarming,
Take from it the bouncy castle whir reverberating inside the walls
Of pretentiousness.
Take from it the apoplexy that draws no small amount of catalyst into its dire chamber.
Sometimes none at all.
Take from it the hypocrisy and the second set of lines orbiting the clamorous hooves.
And you are left with a robotic nuisance-
Father, Father, if only Mother were more like you,
With an eye for a malleable mass,
And with a minty resolve.
Mother, the bringer of eggs,
And where eggs crack, the basket softens.
Mother did crack,
And the fractures ran doglegged, cracking, spreading, unrelenting, disease.
Living.
Lining with self-impressed toxin the inner insulation of the skull,
Where candles of epiphany burn down to streaks of insignificant wax,
Lyrically impaired,
Lost in a city sea of lights and reflections from that fluorescent arse.
Fake in its glow, artificial air
Musk around the unwitting family of Frankensteins.
Foul electricity.
Great White Shark pupils.
Ears deafened by an envelope of cacophony.
The Hall of Mirrors a Narcissistic smokescreen, these reflections leave me awake and choking,
In the midst of gutless authorisation.
Invaders' footprints take the longest to wash from the carpet,
Especially when sun-bleached in the eyes of the blind.
I am awake and choking, dagger stiller beneath my pillow.
