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you travel cross-country to the dreams in my thought bubble where i pinpoint with pins and pop the balloons that kill you and let you die in my italian nightmares. because i can't sleepo or showero. and you love your fetisho for replying from broken keyboreds in international alphabets under achromatic suns like the acrobats flipping at your seven-ring circus--where you're/you’re the kazoo's bubblegum dancer. and, you know what, i think the kazoo loves you too.
and you know what else ? your missing apostrophe keys and my car keys met at our threeway wedding, and that's why you caant speel four sheet, not even your own name; and it duznt heelp dat im a tad narcisistic too. and that i really cant spell narcisissttic. or that i hold myyyyyy WHY's down because i keep asking why you describe my faceless kisses as "EW" or maybe that's me. and you moan like a banshee because Yes and You both begin with weirdly wary whY's that aren't as wise as you and i think we think we think. but it's because we're irresistible. and i really just like copying-and-pasting because i'm eqaully lazy. and i just misspelled equally, but i guess it's alright if you say it is.
please don’t stop writing about me, and i won’t stop making you happy plz. plese, pleas, pleez, DON’T STOP. my randomosity is fully loaded like my waterguns and other weapons... but i’m not even sure if randomosity is a word because of the red line under it. and my fancy math tricks and spontaneous algorithms confusingly confuse your already confusedly confused confusion. and you’re probably confused right now. because the rectangle root of us is pineapple.
it's like world war three beneath the sheets, and i still owe your laundryman. google is tired of nonsense, but the only way to wake up a search engine is to (hard-)drive fast. and i'm faster than lightning. and your name means lightning. only i stole the tea from your time because 'lighting' is more suitable when we lie in the dark and let our secrets rot in ten meaningfully meaningless conversations. and maybe it’s just meaninglessly meaningful. and the incoherent, melancholy mockingbirds mutter singsong lullabies in your laughable ear in clumsy accents and fangirl smiles. and the zoo of kazoos just smiled back too.
they said they love you too.
and you know what else ? your missing apostrophe keys and my car keys met at our threeway wedding, and that's why you caant speel four sheet, not even your own name; and it duznt heelp dat im a tad narcisistic too. and that i really cant spell narcisissttic. or that i hold myyyyyy WHY's down because i keep asking why you describe my faceless kisses as "EW" or maybe that's me. and you moan like a banshee because Yes and You both begin with weirdly wary whY's that aren't as wise as you and i think we think we think. but it's because we're irresistible. and i really just like copying-and-pasting because i'm eqaully lazy. and i just misspelled equally, but i guess it's alright if you say it is.
please don’t stop writing about me, and i won’t stop making you happy plz. plese, pleas, pleez, DON’T STOP. my randomosity is fully loaded like my waterguns and other weapons... but i’m not even sure if randomosity is a word because of the red line under it. and my fancy math tricks and spontaneous algorithms confusingly confuse your already confusedly confused confusion. and you’re probably confused right now. because the rectangle root of us is pineapple.
it's like world war three beneath the sheets, and i still owe your laundryman. google is tired of nonsense, but the only way to wake up a search engine is to (hard-)drive fast. and i'm faster than lightning. and your name means lightning. only i stole the tea from your time because 'lighting' is more suitable when we lie in the dark and let our secrets rot in ten meaningfully meaningless conversations. and maybe it’s just meaninglessly meaningful. and the incoherent, melancholy mockingbirds mutter singsong lullabies in your laughable ear in clumsy accents and fangirl smiles. and the zoo of kazoos just smiled back too.
they said they love you too.
Suggested Collections
to a pimp BALLER-ina, cause she bawling at my triangles.
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cateGORY is other because you're avant-garde too ;DO
weenkin' lyk lincoln
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cateGORY is other because you're avant-garde too ;DO
weenkin' lyk lincoln
© 2009 - 2024 ChloroformBoy
Comments100
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I LOVE YOUR RANDOMOSITY. It makes me smile. 
Even through the pain of having to read misspelt text.
it's like world war three beneath the sheets, and i still owe your laundryman. is moar then slitely jenius, tho.
Even through the pain of having to read misspelt text.it's like world war three beneath the sheets, and i still owe your laundryman. is moar then slitely jenius, tho.