LADY GODIVA: The Naked Truth

I saw you, blurred face in your glory haze  kissing on all your bae living out your last days at Ray's "Your Brother" is behind you in almost every photo I got every one      and my mom telling me to let go but they don't know what I know. I'm not the one whom should be embarrassed, cyber-stalker or canvassed?  I bet the new standard  is rancid breath  your inside voice is yelling this new Tarot spread is oh, so, very telling the tale has crash appeal the plot's so compelling  I can't help but analyze what you cannibalize  what you say but don't verbalize  it's the feature that sold me. He's not here to scold me away from reality anymore the reality, it is really, really ugly stop taking selfies so smugly you're a bit too loco, a bit too local,  and mummy & daddy fear your beer isn't low cal  she's so basic so clutch so ratchet so such with her blander banter    with her basic slander  sh

Mrs. James Bond,      I don't know why           but I don't expect you to talk I expect you to die. For you've already survived a thousand micro-suicides.     Cronus is not on your side,      you cannot cross            this Bridge of Sighs,      you're affiliated with The Lord of Flies       more than caffeinated with all that lies beneath your cross moon.  Standing underneath your bedroom window they've watched the glow go right out from your eyes it's distinctly extinguished anguish now occupies; psychosis, leaks from the sides. All your ride or die bitches go on their own rides, leaving you behind with your ever growing paranoia even the stars will soon disown ya, 'cause you can't prioritize and you can't mature and every thing you say has the substance of manure but the worst thing about your use is watching the self-abuse.    So as the buzz saw spins, she too late begins to understa