bagged salad days

leaning on the eye of the hurricane

a real artistic type thats

wet and red

and sharp

take them home

is it now

or never?

 

Down and flooded

and alone

eye contact

yours or mine?

 

bloody and beautiful

and shy that

won’t stop looking at my hands

is it her

mommy or daddy?

 

Gutted and depressed

and soft that

doesn’t know

ignorance, or bliss?

 

eye of the storm that

a real fucking mess

disaster

brushes

masterpiece?

 

 

 

 

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