am I so frantic,
the depths I've plumed in abandon,
finally cashing in, catching up,
summer of, 'I don't give a fuck.'
midway between the act and suggestion,
halfway between the fall and ascension,
I would confess all but I lack the discretion.
paint me how you want and will,
I've already seen the rose on the hill,
pitching to and fro I'm tossed relentless,
the basement I've come from a dire lesson,
no-ones opinion could lesson the feel, the fall,
the thrill, the kill, that's all.
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