Dies.

Fata morganas
of empty vessels.

Ought to bring
precious gold from
coast to coast -
instead rotting
on the vast ocean floor.

Failed remnants of
wood and water.

00:41

Cutting caress of air on
late night sweat.
Tasteless foam on sweet lips
unlicked, unkissed.

Heavy cotton damp over
sleepless wonders.
Empty containers dust,
unreturned, unfilled.

Downturn.

Cars in their coral,
awaiting their last drive.
A storefront sale
of hopes and hoaxes.
Slashed prices
too big to fail.

< /end>

The world could
cRaSh
around u
u
would not
notice

unless
there is a
link
or a
#tag

Quarter Life Crisis

...and your mother said:
"Your party ended
pretty early, didn't it?"

You just spilled your coffee.

How Can I Express?

I see you in your car
-your air, your hair, your stare.
I feel you in your street
- your feet, your beat, your cheat.
I hear you in your room -
- your steps, your regrets, your sex.

How can I express,
overwhelmed by your presence?

That.
I'm.
Lonely.

Vogue.

Stunning black blocks your insecurity,
obsession with your style
represses your troubles.
Spend it all on your look,
that looks like you never looked.

Do everything to get his intention,
then act like your not interested
Interest through desinterest,
oldest trick in the book.