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our ceilings' leaking. press ctrl esc to erupt. i may look bored. but my head's floating underwater. hire me as your vice so i can show you how to be alive. what am i doing wrong? kept her heart in a goody bag, sealed it tightly but got ripped apart by window flies and spilt all over his lap, bouncing while he took a nap.
i tap my police pen on my notebook as i write,
"no flowers for you her flesh made you turn blue his flesh collapsed against you their flesh gave you the flu none of that was new but still no flowers for you."
tip toeing when home alone to not disturb the spirits living in my bathroom. no flowers for you, it's bee territory. but three kisses will do. heart vibrated too loud in my pocket. alarming me with hope but my shadow still aches underneath my surface. to talk is to love but i'm incapable of talking to you so i showed you; how to play the harp on the roof, how to tumble from a summit, and you taught me to love to return the favor. tell me a modern tragedy that's worse than ours, i'll wait. but i'm not patient. pick your poison and we'll bite the forbidden fruit together. your teeth will rot and so will i. no flowers for you because all the flowers seem to cry.
