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Fuck it;)

Word smith an unintelligent gun smith power lives, in the sound between your lips so girls bend your hips just jokes so, Netflix and chill, ...

Sunday, 11 April 2021

Framed works.

Clouds drowned the eternal spectre
written suffocation of internal fractures
of right vs selfish, internal weathered lectures
aided by the protected projector of idle ventures.

Aerated soul for infinite spectators 
gasping the verse of laceration makers 
Van Gogh's ear to the conscientious narrator
a picturesque show outlaying, the being of, ones static nature.