wrwr

I live between cotton candy pink sticky walls, with the windows always shut as I live in the permanent state of a blissful summer and needless to say it is the summer of insects.My glossy courtains of bubblegum plastic have become saturated with the dust of fluorescent moths and radiant butterflies.They come from nowhere,as if they're spawned from these thin pinkish membranes in one orgasmic act of creation.
I can't let the sun come in, for the light sticks to the walls and I find it rather depressing -getting up each morning to rip faded sunbeams,one at a time,then cover the smudgespots with transparent nailpolish.
On the walls I have pictures of men attacked by fireflies and grasshoppers feasting on souls.