out like a lamb...to slaughter.

small art.
it's kind of still happening these days.
and this time i got a couple new marky-markers to help out.
more heartaches and breaks,
more infarctions and attacks and seize-ups, stutter-stops,
ugly murmurs and dirty rumors and all of that....
squirting out the blood and pumping up the jams, neighbors.
check the transdimensional transplant teleport:

yuuuuuuuuuuup.
what can i even say?
my heart is an ugly organ,
and it pulses with venom and vitriol every single second of every single minute
of every single hour of every single day.
forever and ever.
bass-boosted super-low-end sonic booming, y'all.
and somehow,
i'm still over here in the woodsly goodness,
smearing alcohol-based wetness on these index cards and wordy pages.
it's so hard-pounded and harder-styled.
...definitively, duders.
***********
the end is here.
again.
marching out to battle, marching back to basics.
march is leaving,
and the showers that support the flowers are waiting patiently in the wings.
it gets muddy around the parts,
and the mire and the mess are all that we have left sometimes.
i get dirty,
and i come clean,
and that's often the messiest yet.
today is the day, again.
the last one.
again;
never quiet, never soft.....