Living like a live wire on fire hair electric–fanning and flaming–not taming to harness–unfolded mannequin parts falling off in acceleration–fleeting moments spent in a dime store–kicked cans of spam squared does not roll like the others–foaming mouth spews giblets and form a gobbler–gobble gobble goes the turkey–are you not thankful? Yes! Yes!
Red screams across the screen running in splatter–gun shot to the head–self inflicted–licked it! No more problems stemming from the neural network–back to space. Hum square one. Forum forum–the world I create–not hate nor living like that which is–tossed from this region–nevermore said Edgar–to whom was he talking?
Raven black–under floorboards–dead and beating–that damned eye–he saw me in my form–the formless that I was–the spill of contents that had yet to be defined. Surreal brush in surreal hand–brush hair that falls on media in color not mixed–texture rich if not of lumps–hay–HEY! Hay is for horses–the head that bleeds off paint strokes on the toss illuminate boards–broad strokes come from mass–thin strands lean in streaking–move over color more defined by its minute make-up–eyeliner tucked away under tears which add to the picture–drops leave black–blackened–the canvas is now empty. Living like a live wire on fire hair electric... ~ Maggie ~ February 23, 2010 @ 5:45 p.m. EST
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