2 - not one but two pairs of pliers

i'm forever going to picture us as we never were: happy and in love. trusty and so mature. clapping, hand-in-glove. is that wrong? so lock me up and swallow the key. it'd be more or less par for the course. so, like me, i'll keep wallowing see; you can be whore, or dress up for the remorse. it's so wrong. so kiss me deadly, risky red meat, whiskey when we, tipsy, set free all of your black doves. all that you hacked off. i'm hollow, you're packed up. leaving. it's autumn, that makes sense. me, then, kissed god, and back breaks end. hiss. so long.