Constipated Confinement
turning down the volume
that is what i am thinking as i am blinking
grabbing the last bottle of cream soda
that is my mental escape from a wrath i cannot comprehend
imagining you naked and ready to go down
that is the way i uplift myself while you are bringing me down
the grenade in my brain is on the brink of exploding
the balloon of my self esteem is at the dangerous edge of imploding
the merger of the two is unseen due to the sour blindness of the moment
the spittle burns like a near death experience on Christmas day
the accusations decapitate like a merciless machete moonlighting
the end is the beginning of the minuscule additional
our love has been uprooted by a hurricane so petty and unnecessary
speechlessness post descension is the new loquatious
bye bye sweet valentine era....it was nice pre-post-construction
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