Reality is a thrash-throttle grin across the smokehazed bar. this
anonymous boyman is all darkdarkdark besides his teeth(bone-
white), he's swallowing the stars && the shadows have never seemed so hollow.
pour me another drink, piano man, 'cause
there's not enough air left to breathe && (she's)you're still choking on this half-persona
of full red lips && two coats of mascara [just to make sure you look as plastic as you feel,
honey, no one can ever be too safe] && throwing up your heart into any hand that will catch it
when you f a l l from hell.
up against the mirror, you've never looked like such a fucking whore.