Alchemisland

So many gifts, my parents could have named me Santa

Dipped I drip ink into the sink like I just got in the door from a Bic-drawn world

Everything seems wicked, all the rides are free if you have a ticket

Everyone I know possesses laminate season passes and codes for golden keys

I’m down low like a mole in transit, cold and lonely on my knees

Just me, my fantasies and my leaky tap nose

Clacking keys where mould grows, my throw hosts fleas

My young bones feel old, Alice in Chains mode, flat out fucked and 7UP flat

In cups, pissing in an empty bottle of Buckfast.