Frolicking floricans!  

He walked out of there,
his head Hiroshima, ribs
hung in aokigahara forest
by nooses tied
by a lovers hand betrayed
and in the midst of
sanguine hearts
did they become so naive
He was a gaunt
machine, no emotion
indeed but he
was an artist prince
and she was a patron
who had too much
intention and no indifference
at all, her heart carved into
eggshell chapels
with golden gate
bridge luck
and with that luck
it could only rust
to pieces and fall
thats destiny apparently
even though
he's now more
emaciated then ever
and she's on the pills
constructed by the guidance
of stupid teenage thrills.