Nauseating nostalgia. Don't want ya. Dawn behind the school building, throwing rocks for ball drop. Call for slaughter, cosmic blotter offer beamed downtown. Unbidden scowl shaking hands with a foul mouth. Bring number nine from the line-up for inquiry, molt the mold, I've chosen to add insult to injury. Nothing personal, it's just that your spit on my cheek was the straw that broke my back. Choice of poison complete. Girl saying my nom de plume should loom bird bones. Goosebumps trump the room to assume earth tones. Abandoned gumption in an uncoiled rush for that silky ilk, hash oil, flash the royal flush. Flutter spun, tornado totem stoned but still whirling, cretaceous placement touchdown so unnerving. Serving that personable hearse proficiently, you're cute, see? Now if you hold the remote, dear fucking God, please mute me. Agitated snow globe, clothes off promo. Sparring partner adversary brought a gun to the dojo. Behold three blind mimes at the black and white shrine. An eye for an eye till an eye is a life. I'm a welcome mat no more. Seldom sloth or spore. Nocturnally squirrely till it' early (yeah) but when it rains it pours. No option but a bucket under the droplets to stop it. Muttered "fuck it" when my chain caught and was wrought off the sprocket. Sought to fossick through dossiers, deepen the craze, needless feeding of every other suture ever feigned. Can't deign acknowledgment of the three-to-one sauna stint, blatant shot of metaphorical collagen, or masculine ottomans. I'll repair to the shaman's tent, get air for isolated lungs when hark! there spills her pollen hints from a bifurcated tongue. Spice related drumming when in the jungle, chaos and hunger conduct the score, project the overture of the numbers. The umber of the umbrage stews on hopes of comeuppance. Bleary bird eye view mascara river formula in abundance. I'm a lover, not a fighter, she's a fucker, not a writer but definitely brighter than an effigy poised over my lighter. Am I leaving spite high and dry behind or an aligned sign of might of the same kind of brine? Halt! Friend or foe? Just the former dorm mate dormant in a sworn state. Born for the north gate. Evac with the engine hot. Cringing relapse splatter shot. Cataract gathered every abstract Kodak smattered thought. Rattled with the notion there's a niche that itch can satisfy. Ready the presses for the alibi when your heart hurts for alkali.