Oh,
so Sesame Street isn’t good enough for you,
bitch?
Figures.
Recite your fucking A-B-C’s
ad 1-2-3’s
bckwards,
then forwards.
I’m tired of your falsified “mature” logic.
It has grown
more childish than the muppets that provide
a brief hour of sanity.
My thoughts
are filled with trash cans
deaf ladies
and brightly colored fur...
At least I have dreams.
Even though they are a few feet from tangible.
Anything would be far better than your castles
knights, dragons, and kings...
All this
based on a mere 3 hours
along with a stuffed panda
shoved randomly down his throat.
I crash and burn quite well...
Just toss me a lighter and some gasoline
a regular pyromaniac in training.
I’m one for self-loathing...
little red purple lines ||| |||
decorate the temple quite well.
I can still hear you prattling on and on...
"Do you need my full undivided attention?
A bit of a whore with an obvious need for communication..."
Well, was that really too much to ask?
One phone call every twenty minutes
seems a bit generous to me...
Especially when you have more than time to kill
something like me for example...
Devotion, love
they
hold different meanings for you
Physical touch?
I can give you that...
Handcuffs, velvet tongues
and a satin blindfold.
Sometimes, the teacher needs a lesson from
the student.
I know how to make you
moan plead beg struggle scream...
One last time, my beautiful lover?
This invitation to hell is brought to you
by
the letters ‘R’ ‘L’ and ‘S’
and the number 23.
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