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moogleBdead — veronica.
Published: 2007-01-04 06:37:15 +0000 UTC; Views: 157; Favourites: 1; Downloads: 0
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Description
the night progressed in wildplastered against the walls
as your smoke shotguns
the embers you threw
and I'm pressed into rain
intoxicated disaster
as you sputter confessions.
I might make you beauty
but probability is never definite.
i might make you brilliant
but probability was never delicate.
and we go on
scribbled numbers trickle
our movements away
in rhythmic circles;
detonate.
almost toward savagery
that devil locked his mark
sighted into temptress works
that lockstock never felt right
even worse than your endeavor
is my acceptance of such
monogamy;
atleast in physical pursuit
was almost worthless to you
that mental enrapture
was the only joy.
and we go on
scribbled numbers trickle
our movements away
in rhythmic circles;
detonate.
recycled to develop
our finality to purgatory
the words lay tomeless
a pressed sense to digress
everything decays.[x4]
this is your miscreation.
this is your false stilleto.
this is your frame inact.
this is your duty;
this is our right[x2]
this is alright.
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Comments: 2
I really like it. 
👍: 0 ⏩: 0
someone silly and smart once said "let's just drink to get drunk,
and tell each other everything.
for a drunkin mind ;
speaks a sober heart." dunno who
👍: 0 ⏩: 0