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Pants hug a scarred ass
Pants hug a scarred ass
And show something beautiful.
Our vision is violated shortly.
The victim falls from grace.
What can fantasy save?
The exploited model was shot
And she became a dying man’s fantasy.
He would have been a dying pervert
But he was known to be a veteran of our armed forces.
He sacrificed his youth
That this cancer may grow.
Before he knew to fear a cancer,
Before we saw the tumor he was.
He laughed that hearty laugh
A laugh hearty enough that is should be feared.
Could suicide still happen even after she was shot?
Was this still an option?
I really don’t think youth’s care.
See churches guarantee us all souls.
And I look at their souls as something
Devoid of spirit.
What if it makes me a bad sport?
Athletes run until their knees are run out.
Breaths are breathed until the logic of respiration
Has perspired
Into a vapor which is called
Dust.
We did not need the liquid after all.
All I ever wanted was an explosion after all.
Dripping….
These milky stains
Are of the water;
The basis of my biology
Which threw bricks
At a culture
Who stoned me first.
Pants hug a scarred ass
And show something beautiful.
Our vision is violated shortly.
The victim falls from grace.
What can fantasy save?
