I'm gettin' on a bit ain't i. eh?? hmmmmmm, i'm a age 'n' go grey on day but for now my hair's brown, my eye's are mossey and my skin is milky white * save for the acne blotches, 'course*.
hold on, hold me up, stick 'em up and fight for what's left and right, behind and correct and heck don't let go just yet or i'll fall and you've already worn out the springs in my mattress so if i crash now i'll crack like porcelain, are you slipping away, out again? twisting and turning and fading away? fading to grey? turning out to be the horror you hid and created and curated and belated and then mated with and spor a sprog of one who so kindly reeled a line, a lie, out to catch her. to hatch her, shell, so tightly it caught her, bound her to you and you, you, who wrapped up in ribbon and rhyme and mystery and misery and hopes for the hopeless, fear for the fearless. to you, for you, who are more perfect than the insect that i hath been born into and whilst I scurry in a hurry but for goodness knows what i'll see you hatch her, beautiful, pure, clean and fresh, beautiful, pure, clean and fresh, bound to you, i'll stay and watch from my mess.
don't ask where that came from. i'm not entirely certain myself and i must be off to slave at science homework.
oh joy, oh rapture.
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