S. Vix

  tell me to leave from the brack i’ve got stains on my back only you can see your five star hates me while he’s telling you he loves your baking  covered in black from toe to collar i highly doubt he’s gotta hollar dumb doctor quiver maybe  i’m numb maybe I know static electricity hell  maybe  i’m  dumb post mortem i’ll let em torch em let em swim in his soggy little sea and as he sees roaches  i pop more potion stir thick cream into my sweet tea contradict your statement sir you are what? you work, for? Sure, I have time- if you have, just seven, seas? shock the shit out of your therapist pay her well the trick works for it and god help yea cause it sure as hell ain’t me

  marbled out and pushed to pieces last in sorrow jesus! now, leave us i’m map-ed in puddles i’m torn in tunnels down wide streets  low visibility reach  i’m counting crooked smiles and a steady lip, in filler i think- past my bracket, golly… gee i wish i criss crossed that toss i cannot yet say i’m at a loss score skittles then I splinter apple sauce to leave a found man lost god forbid me say a tinge i’d rather say maybe  he knows a hinge from a lever- or a bracket as he should and back hand magic turns hearts to tragic para para mud  clutter my casket close out the racket excuse me should I not? or should? pass me trollyeez sick of follies  I prefer the sun  to catch me scattered place back my splatter can’t put  me  on the  run Push petals in life in death think twice for back is life in the morning to open eyes  read  past the words lead by heads  spun tight too  tight to wind  think again again keep heart i...

  if water washing over me were my grave  had it of been so sweet  to touch and elegently i’m not catholic enough and when i refuse communion  on the step they bow in mercy reap me bitter if i die unripe as fruit for earned is mercy learned to hearts  who lose the parts in which leaches tunnel through and close a door so few look to close open another you may have never knew passing and passing and clicking  more tapping beg pardons for are we not rude? and are we not mirrors of pictures we fear or once feared when so little we knew still is it not plunder to ask of another why is it that they may misconstru? some cannot spell yet others dwell in sing song whither paint hues so a lady can laugh throw her head back and still air air pushes through and for not open bars or the sights in the stars freedom, any will? would we have it? or would we see only yellow patched blue to red leave out the magenta, fuesca, paulette name moans to matrimony..  sadness ...

  light a lantern for a druid spread flowers for the sun  wish i’d harbored my secrets now i haven’t got one and i’ve got a pastor in the back off a half gram of hash and now he’s mirroring my image  pushing pins into my back so i’m waiting in a dayroom passing twisted reeds i’m a puss on mondays i need it just to breath light a lantern for a druid pick pasley just to shove mark my calender for strangers then vent to my plug i’ve got two face down dimes on a table for goodluck you’ve got four quaurters  that’s only ever a  buck

 no shelter no rain my turns falling and drawing shots  while i’m humming out low in pain in a sharp stained in coffee sticking stunting my delay you ask me things you know then love to hear an answer no nice common decent man would love me  here i am stripped predetermined to be worn by capricorn on to ego cancer no rain  no shelter Maybe I’d feel less lonely here alone cause he’ll just turn and leave and brown eyes turning drawing humming shots and always love always love never starts nor stops  on about  i have a heart that aches, where art? and please  always still hang on my shoulder gaze  into blazed eyes as i watch them both glaze over  and I couldn’t hold for quite this long with any other capacity yet in the bottom of the basket of your trinkets love, you have me.

  bring your bullets to bend  with your cash on platinum hand  of 30 million in a pocket book in sweden all my pay stubs i don’t keep em when it’s pennies in your pocket least your not ‘hope’in im droppin quite yet ‘cause  is my life painful? right, really? only the right to exist when you can lock me up… and shoot me up,  then send me half years salary bill for it.. deny me my right to die for free  give me liberty  give me death give me abilify for 3k to the chest  i suspect, you are a suspect- defend, my right to ideology yet only if it suits your vision of me work me hard for ten long years “just thirty more and you’re out of here.”  deposition reeps world still sick  with subtle breeze hitting that face, for an hour a day, i hope they never lay awake while  i know  you burn bring your bullets to bend  with your cash dividend of 30 million in a pocket book in sweden all my pay stubs i don’t keep em ‘cause I bleed ‘em w...