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Damn, Sell This Dress
Folder:
Mombi's Heads My true desire conspires to lie
With another
Worth - what is it?
Glass tied to hope with a tourniquet
Choked, the princess lies
Motionless
Alive on the outside
Glide through the neon car wash
Laid out on the slab
What to do
He'll do
I'm due
To find respite
Despite the slight
May all the mirrors shatter
Perhaps he's kind
Perhaps he'll matter
(It will not be the latter)
Backwards hat
Crude goatee
Hairy potter in a frat
It's like making love
To a yapping hacky sack
Will you please be quiet?
Will you quietly please?
Revoked, the "princess" lies
Notionless
What am I doing here?
With this empty canteen
This vapid canned teen
The less we bring
The more we carry
Our backs loaded
Staked to the mooring
As we make our wary way
Into the streets of morning.
