Eleventy-Seven (Pt.2)

Eleventy-Seven (Pt.2)
By Johnny-Ray

Skin tick alimony
Outstretched arms
Spitfire armory
Blue cadaver farms
The password is hidden from the taskmaster

In a diabetic sugar land, lend me a hand
In a bastard plantation, my father waits
Anvils in a light hover
Haste around dead lovers
don’t pacify me I’m ok
Leave my dosage aloneThey single me only
The judging spotlights
Holding ceremony
Exchanging sound bytes
The jumpsuits pair me
With a green eyed girl
Aboard an aero plane lost at sea
Taken them in moderation
These tiny pills are killing me
Paper in a dead plunge
Cutting as it comes down
This lonely girl becomes a product of death
And I’m coming around
Cradling inevitability
My own foaming acidity flooding over me
The mothers mourn their infertility
While the milk sours
Keeping appearances
I’ll squeeze a smile
Though they drag me through my own blood.
Fuck you, I.C.U, Where’s the golden mile?
The neon sneaker march carries on for days and days
There will be so much pain to witness
Good thing I’m already gone