Electricity is liquid, blinding blue twirling in red like cherries. The sharp tang of iron twines with ozone.
I’m talking nonsense right now, but the drums are hitting me just right and the guitar sneaks in like a lullaby with a taser. Music reminds us, sometimes a feeling is better than sense.
I just want to hold on to this as long as I can, because the worst thing about flying is when the ground jumps up, and you find out you were really just falling.
Breaking bones go snicker-snack, the vorpal sword, a lie adored.
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