If I could kill for your robbers, I would.
Eat a heart.
My synapses, collapses.
Battered eyesockets bloody.
Emphasis enough?
Hyperbolic, pathetic, but true.
Truth being...
I cannot observe our moments.
Personify, perspire have persective of that.
I can, hold, it.
Feel it's luxury swell and break me
Then move on.
To the next one, wanting the old one.
I order make another!
Destroy the vapid, by paying for breath?
Suckle for permission.
But at least hold it.












