Far beyond the breach,
Behind redundant canine teeth,
Behind the party rhetoric,
Behind the squalor of,
Molars,
Collar,
Larynx,
And tongue,
There lies a net,
Of weaved resentment and regret,
Of opportunity rebuked.
Of cynicism,
Forcing a,
Schism,
Of belly and heart.
And through this drain, of clogged up innocence and pain,
There, squeezes every single word,
There, squeezes:
"Never, never, never, never, again"
And every word, erupts distorted and absurd,
With that distinctive stagnant smell,
Of lying.


Blowing off the dust,
Of an undomesticated lust,
I hear the roar of unfulfilments engine.
As familiar
As a lover's behind.
Beyond the breach,
Behind the rows of crooked teeth,
There is a pilot light,
Like Lucifer.
Still burning;
Brow discerning,
But eager.
Despite the glib trajectory,
Of this forsaken industry,
I'm wading through the corpses
Just to try and climb aboard,
A ship that I've already left.
But in the chasm of my chest, my lungs are,
Panting, masochistic,
Pulling me aboard once more.

Crickets

BileBoy

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John Fletcher

John Fletcher

Au☁Faie

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