Crypticqueen

Mayday, beltane Tongue to flame While they celebrate All it does is rain. Green breaks Quiet mouths soft Riot, gun Shots I choose to run The garland round The Maypole's spine In the rain We drown

The pines don't mind The pesticides But the grass just / sucks it up It grows all Lush and green But it feels bad as fuck

There’s a cow on my chest and the dishes are towered in the sink

If i could wish for another Wish I'd wish For one more. I'd pick out her socks I'd brush her fine hair Funny girl, be my Fawny girl and Crawl back home to mommy

I with a mouthful of Cotton tried to Get her to pick one fluff But she wouldn't Have a taste of that gruff Tryna get paid if he want me.

My glasses -- not Rose or blue But hued green For all flags I see. Tall poles my Eyes can't be Deceived.

Interlocutor— you cut between

Two quarters through the piggy's slit

No sharks / No Tornados / No Tsunamis, My war is the Violence within the Heart of my head There's tears in his eyes I said what I said. Post-war clean-up of Apocolyptic proportions Bloodied and battered I Cry 'yes' to Your devotions

A lick of my life Half-awake half Nor empty nor full. "Too beautiful for her own Good" intentions but Copy written trances. Tranche the halls with Beads & jewels.

i took the long way home Through a thought I didn’t mean to think Past memories with bad knees Ghosts from high school lunch break I thought I saw Jesus Serving in a gas station Tims He asked if I had exact change I said no, but I have shame

Cuckoos coup