Lost Love Lust

Tags: words

• attack.

  My words are weapons. Sharp blades that slither along the synapse making their way towards the center.
  The center of the mind, the aura, the being.
  Everything that ends, has a beginning.
  I am a reversal, a rebellion, a renowned reconnaissance route reveling rurally.
  I begin with smiles and end with doubts.
  I speak and you listen.
  Colors and brush strokes [...]

• dirty ends.

  You watch the clock, the typical tick scratches the sides of the brain.
  This thing. This thing called time.
  A picture frame, the artists you seek to blame.
  Dark martini, no fucking lime.
  It is not the loves that you proclaim, but the true creations of disdain.
  A telephone ring, a partner in crime, the key to the line.
  Assign, Refine, [...]