THIS IS A READ-ONLY ARCHIVE FROM THE SORABJI.COM MESSAGE BOARDS (1995-2016). |
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--------------------------------------- simple minds are hard to kill, small eruptions inside a black balloon the smallest hall always attracts the largest beasts and clouds, small if they are green crowd the mind and clouda the senses sweaty hand filled with dollars, listless flower on a bed of nails target sleeps and killer shoots bang boom dead and forgotten - rotten we try to sleep, but your breathing keeps me awake.. the scent of her neck drives me into a frustrated fit, i scream i fall i'm tall.. you're small i grab my twists of lemon, and dip my head in gin i dodge icecubes with an umbrella and swings at the air with my fists (they hold little kittens) i think i saw you smile our eye's have seen, and our mouth's have tasted tasted and liked, spat and disliked ambience is filling everything devoid of love and raked with long bloodcolored nails she's a crane of pain a bringer of babies unwanted but i have my heart and with every beat i kill her until she is by my feet bleeding clapping her hands in triumph she screams: "pain is your muse, and the screams of dying angels your music!" so listen to me, hear me out what i say now is true, and what you heard was a lie (c) k.e. eriksson |