I write what I feel, and I let it go.
You Can’t Say That, Pt. IX
It’d be far more interesting to kick someone in the knee, watch them drop, and then use your own knee to bludgeon their nose further into their face.
Wolves
We point at the path of sticky entrails and we blame you.
Rightly So
There is mad, mad joy to be found.
dead me, dead you
This can’t bode well, can it?
bursting
Living in my head, it’s not such a bad thing.
YOU CAN’T SAY THAT, PT ∞
Not my personal Jesus.
