| your kaleidoscope left a face on my bruise door crying again through blasts of cocaine, stained blood, dried on your hands left fingerprints on mine black ink streaming from the bites i take a lostness that's never visible paroxysm's of colours that spring false hope non-existent hope, infected rainbows the ditch you dug is paper thin cuts on the wall i choke to show you the realness of slimy stars charging with a not so apparent figure, but pure it spoke through it's rusty scalp ascending in a puddle of shit you can replace the empty mess |