Drunk On Love Bugs And Ketchup Rings



Growing from my eyes

I can’t project my fears into your bloodstream.



Is casuall,

Don’t you think?

I think you’re a hit.


So hit.

You want to light a fire?

What into my eyes,

With a soft spoken flame gun

That gruffs into mine,


How pretty.

You slit me.

You sit me,

On the door,

Where I pout my little cheeks

Like a little scrimpy whore


You like it when im angry

And I guess I like you more

Than when you said you loved me

As I was before



I hate you really eeply

And my eyes will grow to flames

They’ll grow out little flowers

That’ll burn off with your mane

Of a lion-head-and

Sickly sweet smell

Of lions brains.


I can’t tame you, stupid.

Juts let go, you stupid.

I can’t tame you stupid.

You’re stupid, let me go.


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