tap pad burn out

p>so i slip away sometimes, to know where that special space between absence and existance where flowers bloom in mid morning rain.  i clicked out over and away. i waited a week and repeated my pattern, i skipped to beats i forgot, i hummed to playlists i didn't want, shuhhshhsshhh... he says and wants to give me a fix.

i don't drink in the night air..
i want a fag, hand rolled by the boys in the pub... give me an owl dressed in tile and i'll show you a vinyl candleabra ready for a wall sticking.  fuck. it stuck

happened with a foot crack slap me right on my keister, fuckall'd and benched.  didn't even make it through the prelims cause das uber boot  has me walking stiff and un skated.  dahsn't matter though, i'll pick it back up, i feel the sunset as you know and watch as my status change hits a cloroform high note and trickles back into nothing. 

if i'm to be naughty, tonight is the night. shining armour and armoir and good lord that was a nice kick.  can't go central like, but they're thinking bout shipping me out to memphis.  i like that idea... cause then it will be easier to break my heart.  till then i'll play a list of milky way obsession and finger the catastrophic rain fall, cross my eyes, kiss the ground the snake slithered on and hope for a toodlepiphardkick from who ever holds on tight enough to snap crackle and pop me a new one.  new line.
sin a muh.