Stitches On Acid

It was summer when we were shot out of a cannon.
your eyes were nuggets of gold in the backseat.
I held a strawberry cigarette.
smoke covered our bodies like a blanket as the engine breathed fire into the sky.
dots like on a television screen rained down on us.
It was the end of the modern world.

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Author: Becca Bomb

Becca is a musician and poet from Scotland. Her first book is coming out in late 2012.

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