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• Artiste: Last Perfection
• Titre: Everyone Is a Poet
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INCORRECT: avant la mauvaise ligne
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Lead the bleeding to a cliff, drop them into stagnant hope. unplus the life preservers and drown all the wounded because tomorrow chokes the futile screams of yesterday. The Band-Aid peeling back leaves you cut and full of blood. Expose your fractured heart for the world to pull apart. Wash away all your pain with these words. You love this and you need this. You'll swallow it whole. You cleanse your wounds with lies; the antiseptic burns away your old imagination of a perfect symmetrical triangle of love. Arguing the relevance of your bullshit poetics until it becomes painfully clear that you don't know what you're talking about. Rain clouds forming above your head, dripping down the ideas of others, manifesting themselves into copies of copies of copies. You fell in love with this romantic notion of being in pain.