your filter-form discothèque fingers do the talking
i shed another layer of hyperprocessed bass pulse,
shiver out from underneath the jukebox
little death derived from the french
your lungs bruise from the rain of asbestos,
distortion a hard-hitting excuse for resuscitation
calculated neon slides over hidden aces, with bare thighs
a few careful inches from euphemism,
you die again and again and again













Comments
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i make them good girls go bad !
what led you there? xD
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let's play a game called you pretend i am an actual poet
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i make them good girls go bad !
aha, well it doesn't have to be sexual.
it can refer to the feeling caused by some terribly awful incident...
you're sharp.
--
let's play a game called you pretend i am an actual poet
--
i make them good girls go bad !
--
let's play a game called you pretend i am an actual poet
haha
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i make them good girls go bad !
--
let's play a game called you pretend i am an actual poet
--
i make them good girls go bad !
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