She bulletproofs the silence
Of these isolated streets.
They once were bright with the faces of misery.
She sweeps the dust away from the feet of the shadowed corpses,
Arranged meticulously as to portray what
Goals their cold eyes once represented.
I don't want to be hospitalized for this disease.
The cancerous love spreads,
Killing the cells and reproducing.
Her perfect gaze,
Sweetly caressing the life out of my thoughts.
A picture of her soft lips,
And entrancing eyes,
Is plastered against my skull.
I could live in this beautiful paralyzation untill I die.
And even then I suppose
She'll be my mind.
My unfufilled fantasies
Will have eternal life.
I just hope that the buzzards that will gnaw at my brain,
As I lie in the vast field off the interstate,
Will find you as attractive as I did.
Bloated admirers of yours will flood the morgues.
Merely just seeing your face on a passing bus,
Will commence
Your sexy
Epidemic.
-Steve?-
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