I've woken again in an ocean of salt. Drenched from recurring. Dreams of such horror. They haunt my evenings. . Nightmares of a future so absurd. This fantasy of events could never occur.
Consider this your fair warning. There's no turning back now. You're leaving your. Blanket of cleansed gospel. . For the smut of vicious truth. You won't need your wool coat.
I've got shovels for my hands. Anchors for my legs. Wings jut out my shoulder blades. I can go anywhere. . I can't go anywhere. I'm trapped in a mirror.
She exits her gold chariot. One pump at a time. Cloaked in her matching pin-striped. Arsenal of next month's nows. She grazes through the dark. . Downtown concrete planes.
She exits her gold chariot. One pump at a time. Cloaked in her matching pin-striped. Arsenal of next month's nows. She grazes through the dark. . Downtown concrete planes.