your weapons are invalid

and need excuses to celebrate killing

bad posture and wine as tongues

now i can burn their white collars

and their useless ties 

and their useless hearts

take me to the shore 

sync myself with you

i'm tired of being restless

i think the board-less are going to save me

shift my perception 

break you neck 

suck a kiss

swallow her cum 

and breath endorphins 

and what is your stomach for?

for aches and pools of vomit

i am pollution 

i am a satellites

i am ashes and sharp knifes