Freudian Slip





I swear by semantics

I didn't mean that _

My tongue was a little sloppy sick,

That's just a tangent I'm trying to meet on this graph of grudges

And all the equations of emotions.

All those butter poached reincarnation of words are a bit too much for me to enact

A whole play; a heart dressed gaudily won't perform

It's still veins of inked chronology diaried,

Of hurt hardware copied in the system.

But still that was nothing but an accidental perforation: a leak from my mouth

I apologise, I need to fix it.