Don't you come near me.

When life gives you lemons, it's meant to make you sour.

We need to take a break.
We need distance.
There's already a crack in the plate.
and by '...more time away from each other' you mean 'You bore me.'
Because before you never wanted me out of your sight.
And now you'd much rather not look at me.
'We never sit together anywhere."
We never sat together when we had our own apartment.
You didn't talk to me either when we went places.
You.
You.
You.
And I think that's all it's really about.
But if I were to make it about,
Me.
Me.
Me.
You'd kill me in my sleep.

Vevoom

Balanced medical repression of mental confession,
specialize in despise defiles files for sleepy eyes.
Pried open,
you're no good unless you're broken,
and there's no way to control the waves as they come and go in,
steady shore hoping for someone to grab a hold.
Bold demeanor,
her vision was cleaner when she felt the keener mind eye replaced with opi-oid receivers.
A bleeder,
gushing out the scarlet uniform of sincere confirmation to the sanctity ward,
mobilizing the cripples to forsake the penalties you horde.
Bored and tired and hardly mistaken,
for a piece of pre-cooked bacon,
consuming your punctual vocation,
civilizing the daily dedication to repatriation,
a nation devout and divine,
with little to no rhyme scheme in the words they use to confine,
redefine the beaten path and sleek lines,
me thinks you'll be fine,
unless you reap what you sewed the tear-
nine stitches,
with nine inches of metal twitches,
keeping the cut close with the physics.
Mind fucked bitches with sacrilege under they witches hats,
posted with gats to show you where it's at and lay you out flat with a light tap.
Back to the beginning.
Balanced medical repression of mental confession,
a proper lesson folded up inside the compounds of this weapon.
Make out session,
sexualized deprived eyed babies with pride,
mind tight and out of sight but the body is ripe.
What's a groom without a bride?
Outside,
inside and entwined.
Macabre moaning motor boat snorting conceptual coke .40.
Horny enough to break the daylight with a day fight,
ended by evening with a rough bite.
The teeth marks create islands in the skin,
an ocean of sand swimming in pools of red marked sin.


----