Paper Boy

O.
right.
ok then.
I. . .

Lonely minstrel sitting down
burning frown
like cycle down
into utter travesties
never-meant-to-be's
and a twist in the knee.

I am paper boy!
not like deliveries
with remedies to inquiries,
but more so like. . .

theoretical hypothetical dream machine demeanor
that comes off cleaner if it hides behind your bed.
The kind of guy that's superfly
but you can't say that you've read.
Let's break it down like a tick
like a tock
and beat the clock
for keeping score
because at 22 with no lips perused
you think they'd like me more.
But in the sense of flies in vents and hiding under that wall
I tripped the tip and found the slip when in hearing you
you fall.
Heart was beating
bleating
for air when question 1 he slipped past.

I gasped.

And waited.

Desperate sifting of the air.
Holding tight to nothing there
my spies eyes had hidden me from the stare and you said. . .

Probably not.
Twitch
burn
reasons
why?
Burn like frogs in spines of grey
like frankincense and murder.
Smelling sweet with bitter repore
my heart beat building like an enraged door
"growing up to do"
shattered through my veins biting
like flighting mentions taunting my brains

O. . .
Right. . .
Ok then. . .
I. . .

O.
Right.
Ok then.
I

O,
Right,
Ok then,
I,

O
Right
Ok then
I
WHY?

Which perfection that admired
burned blackest in desperate mire?
Into what moment did suspension bring your suffering to halt?
"Not so good enough"
"Like'm fine by himself but you can't take him in public"
but at the same time it's not like. . .
like. . .
like. . .
like,
I like you that way.
I didn't want you to be infatuated I just wanted to be. . .
infatuating.

O.
Right.
Ok then. . .