No matter how far gone he is he never lets himself get killed in a dream and this vicious nonchalance this Sports Chalet shit he pulls when he’s afraid of his vision hems and seams the scam like a carcass waiting to be kissed painted given its inverse manger yesterday’s kef in tomorrow's coffin we have the loftiest vendettas we vex and buck and bled out the tire swing looking for the meaning of the house it sways from like a vacant clock of Maa fa do not let the clot lodge somewhere obnoxious and watchout for the stiff wrists of addicts and what’s trapped inside his head as madness laughing comes out catatonic screams we need to deal with catatonia some more the entire turbulence of the digital world silent as a blizzard as it nears itself dirty as thursday jupiter and rage day to grow and spiral we need to deal with idols and the sulking boundary between eyes and yes we need to see inside of the genocide to its heart which must be broken wound up & dreaming of its own murder it loves go so much we must deal with blame but who? I feel strange as an angel telling you to shape your mind and die but what a caress we get in your stillness and we can say the deranged names of western hills like all bets are off Leon lost his mind waiting for Maa fa to admit she knew where the body was and float through new snow to the tucked black shoulders on the white bones of water I half remember him being awake when they took him away in chains and suede it’s so hard to say genocide but Maafa comes out riding how the savior rides with the endless middle ahhhh or ox and the yes / no eyes at the end of suffering when it becomes delirious lucky she is the one watching their broken bodies beg for more she is the one saying yes and no and softening sinners’ limbs into lasso
