Wistful Poison by Oldepunk. “I’d rather fallout shelter this cold ambition” Another soul-churning-masterpiece by Oldepunk!
I obfuscate my temptation
by metaphor
poisoning the flowers
I love, and feed the weeds
choking at the root of the square
of the problems with memento mori
I don’t feel like sunshine today
so pull the curtain and fade
to black ensemble choirs’ aria
a trembling hand to hold
onto means nothings were tainted
with absinthe and woe
charlatan payday, and hey
you would to if anyone were
that dumb
deaf to the notion I bespoke
upon the trodden
it’s a chemical reaction
that playing out in this
hospice bed and they won’t let you
die, it hurts the profit margin
I color outside the lines
standing in the rain for another
life I didn’t want to have
more time with myself, I’d
rather fallout shelter
this cold ambition and seeking
solace I located solitude
at your mom’s old beach house
she really wanted to know
what the fuck…
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