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.

Related posts:

Becca Bomb

Posts Twitter

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

No Comments

Be the first to start the conversation.

Leave a Reply


Text formatting is available via select HTML. <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>