kickinglovers

the noun of blowjob lips..

simply describing a full mouth. pouting. looking 'able' enough to surround the cock effortlessly and perfectly. a skill in itself. and there on this sujbect would also be perfect at the act itself.


i've not written since we broke up, i don't pine.
i wear a sweatshirt of duckling colouring and marshmellow softness..
and the pumping organ hurts.

i think it was because she had blow job lips.
red lipstick painted and smudged slightly.
noted when she lit her cigarette with the butt of another.
it could've been the raised eyebrow or smile
or the complete superior attitude imposed by her glancing
looking
bored by everything.

yes.



///the shilling is rubbish crap\\\

and i dig ImperfectCandence

i'm so dull these days..sorry sorry.

this passion is a plagerism..


[i didn't need to see that, i didn't need to know that.. i didn't want to know...... why would you?]



so i hurt.. shoot me.

last three nights sambucca saved my life (absinthe just stole time)

*i've a new piercing
*i'm now a supervisor at work plus a payrise
*who knows where the rest of my head is

Funeral charm,

your effortless spoke
to degrade humanity
has left us with no option but
to shame ourselves and raise our hands.
no matter how often we wash our clothes
the sin still reeks
from pores and fibres as it if were
just another human toxin.

these times are different from the last.
tina's left.. flown back to oz..
amy's leaving.
and i am never here..
for the docks and sweetheart calling pull me on in tiny thin threads..
i am to leave soon..

these times are different..

i just can't explain here

the kingdom is destabilised,.
the watch tower unmanned,.
the bedroom lies abandoned-
and the future is unplanned.




i got sick and now crave rest (unsatisfied) without voice or coherant,
my head lies aflurry between birds and stars piercing the sky.
where do you lie?
i .missed. today.
with all else that is going on..
why today?

i cut my hair of.
i got sick.
this sickness is vile.
my memory has been taken for most every simple day to day thing.
a flu virus of washed out capacities.


so much so.

i told my mom, without thinking
'it feels like someone is sat on my....'
with intentions to say face, i stopped myself and recalled with
'feels like someone it jus...
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caught in suposed motion, by blinkered explosion.
exempt from the rock n' roll fascade of social.
twisted in a delivered contempt manner,
my face twists with false alarm.

*your heart is gone
my heart is gone*

written by sleeveless and arm stretch,
your face sown into my skin.
like my heart upon my invisible cuff
there ain't no win; now.

i dreamt about fire like...
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i sneezed another brave idea






and if i fall would there be another stone in my shoe, making it harder to come back to you .. ?


i wanted to buy you something today, but it isn't appropriate.
i hope you are well. that my space has been filled well.


i miss you. terribly sometimes, things to tell you. to share with only you. never...
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i swear. no teeth shall graze my neck again. for the swollen bruising.. not sucked.. actual bruising. is distressing.

* i finished the busiest weekend last nght at 6 and slept for the first couple of hours. and gosh.. how i have enjoyed myself *

despite being ridiculously ill last night. the stomach virus just won't kick it.

now friday and saturday must be planned....
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you made me ponder. only the likelihood of it being. was slim to none.. and yet.
you kept me awake. what a chase.. a drunk rambling chase through forests and fields..
to a place where they may only wear converse and eat good sandwiches.

work was a bother. i'm still recovering from wednesday night, a rather forward affair of alcohol and drunk at 8pm. just...
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