Welcome To The Crash
Welcome to the crash, my friends. Welcome to the crash. The dawn clock ticks on, as checked shirts torn off hit floors, and a vodka scented sweat soaks into the seams. His handlebar moustached lip, and mandible jaw click open, and begin to pour forth five oceans of spit ruined, rorschach tested, unborn, x-rated dreams and tears stream from in between blinks as he thinks "I should have done more things". Then suddenly in his neck he feels it, like a heart attack, his own pulse beating, thick with fat, and as we sweats he tries to catch breath, and breathes deep with a stretch, reaching out to grab hold of another cigarette and as he lights it, he looks straight into the camera, right down the lens and says; Welcome to the crash, my friends. Welcome to the crash. Because the iCloud is full, and the App Market's open, and she's hoping that we're all just going towards something else, somewhere else, close up, maybe in real life, or maybe just in...
Comments
Post a Comment