these days are the killing days
storms that hardly grow
first it was that look,
then bubblegum in a dish,
now where can I turn?
melody feel stream
my heart is your trashed campus
faucet nose pouring
how goes your daytime?
as rapid as my sprinter's?
pray that is not so
my dead retainer
feels like an alternative
to lip locking loss
I can't find my past
perhaps I misplaced it here,
underneath these clothes
listen up brothers
you know what we're not getting:
younger at all, huh?
nighttime laughs at me
for being such a maroon
oh, what a bully
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