You’ve become as soft as your ever-soft prick.
Category: reality
between my ears
It’s all gone to hell.
meanwhile
I bet you thought it would be different, being human.
just words
Poetry is only a moment.
CLARIFY
I write what I feel, and I let it go.
Wolves
We point at the path of sticky entrails and we blame you.
Rightly So
There is mad, mad joy to be found.
