Plug In.

red dawn alert queen, i beg of you, take us to the crackle of it all with a side of cinnamon

“don’t make me live”, she shakes under her breath
she’s metal flesh and gooey inside
but it sings me to shivers, the silence in between
as i’m writing like a crack, stale and full of emptiness
pale and pondering, behold the magic of madness
look over her left shoulder, the world is crumbling
look over her right, a lotus is blossoming within a black hole
her arms have turned into violent rivers pouring into the the sour soil of sorrows
and her chest is full of flames while standing on legs made of wings
just feather this thought for some fly imagery
a ghost girl, made of dirt inside a room of water trying to peel a tree of life says:
“please, i’m dry and dusty with tangled misunderstandings”
standing there, she demands that i play paint and picasso the simple
“i can’t ask you to do that”
then what are we here for, if not that?

you push, i’ll pull

ready?

go.

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