View Full Version : In My Own Daint Speckle

06-28-2006, 03:27 PM
In My Own Daint Speckle

dirty dust bunny's cotton cloud tales,
hazily crowds around,
the blended masked view,
of the great big pumpkin sunset,
only the moonkissed vine's bitter ends,
disguisingly streak their tiny yellow sparks,
to this salty stingy surface,
of this deep dark blue sea,
you deviously look down,
upon the tiring me too,
as im hopelessly stranded,
in these vast blue grains of nowhere,
my skin horidly looks,
if douged and splattered visciously,
of some live locus eating acid,
ashes to flakes,
darkened red sunburnts,
to fleshed pieces dusting off,
a floating burnt piece of toast,
slowly dyingly cooked dry i am,
for your wicked soul to greedily feed on,
my hands deformed gooey and raw,
from repeately rubbing,
brushing upon these ruined oars,
and now i leakingly slowly spill,
but cuttingly sharply sting,
my warm worn out blood,
into your blackened blue tongue,
as your roaring mouth's razor teeth,
come creepingly up behind me,
offensively ready to ruthlessly snap,
my brittle bones of my soar back's,
splintered spinal cord off,
now you roughly whip,
your terrifying tongue at me,
my weak body's wittled bones,
crushingly crack and brutally brake in,
of dying blood rushing alarms,
my cracked and pastly moldy,
soulful flushed red eye's lid's,
desprate soul seeking survival window's,
finally break into depressing gushed pieces,
too late to passively squeem a cry,
my saliva plastered dried throat,
wants to passionately scream,
scream of why,
you ditchingly deserted me,
why you just jokingly decide,
to decietly come back secretly,
to just pushingly provoke and hurt me more,
but i can't scream,
i just fastly choke on your wretchful saliva spit,
and lifelessly lie there dead,
in my own daint speckle,
of salted blood~