deepundergroundpoetry.com
Condensed
There's always a promise of rebirth
for a plastic temple,
the soft self repaired and dominant.
Y.O.L.O., I'll make it one hell of a perfect fucking time.
The sickness is newness
like muscle milk for a deceased baby,
a candy piper on his bib,
music lays on the ground unheavy with long legs, tangled laurels upon the spine, hair of reprisal,
a golden setback. I think I can love once more.
for a plastic temple,
the soft self repaired and dominant.
Y.O.L.O., I'll make it one hell of a perfect fucking time.
The sickness is newness
like muscle milk for a deceased baby,
a candy piper on his bib,
music lays on the ground unheavy with long legs, tangled laurels upon the spine, hair of reprisal,
a golden setback. I think I can love once more.
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