Bind Laden is dead..Man this will be good water cooler conversation at work.
I felt like writing. Yes its in mass paragraph form, I leave it to you to break up as you are comfortable with, or uncomfortable with.
I am the beast the monster the one seething despair parting my hair for the phantasms in my head they are serpents dressed in red and gold they tear out the needles in my eyes to make me see your face in the transparency Ive squandered and wasted my nights waiting for your fingers slither across my scars I am the beast the monster the one seething despair on an anhedonic noose growing tighter with every step into the dreams made of ash If we could burn this all and start over it would still end the same
Paradise is hollowed out now Ive expunged the stitches and sutures continuing to twist and spin in the wind standing on the ashes of the gloom and sulfur the Sheppard chokes on the collar of the lamb she seemed to have walked into the vespers of an overwhelming sense of insecurity we bleed our lives theres no will to clot them shut so much for glass heart fires in this world
Fingers itch to peel my face during a confusion of sleep wondering who could eat the apple of Eve don't mind me I'm not anything just a phantasm so finish the cigarette during the intermission for the invisible crowd I am your new disease a tumultuous ethereal scarecrow retching on choice and absurdity I regret those talks I had with muted walls
I felt like writing. Yes its in mass paragraph form, I leave it to you to break up as you are comfortable with, or uncomfortable with.
I am the beast the monster the one seething despair parting my hair for the phantasms in my head they are serpents dressed in red and gold they tear out the needles in my eyes to make me see your face in the transparency Ive squandered and wasted my nights waiting for your fingers slither across my scars I am the beast the monster the one seething despair on an anhedonic noose growing tighter with every step into the dreams made of ash If we could burn this all and start over it would still end the same
Paradise is hollowed out now Ive expunged the stitches and sutures continuing to twist and spin in the wind standing on the ashes of the gloom and sulfur the Sheppard chokes on the collar of the lamb she seemed to have walked into the vespers of an overwhelming sense of insecurity we bleed our lives theres no will to clot them shut so much for glass heart fires in this world
Fingers itch to peel my face during a confusion of sleep wondering who could eat the apple of Eve don't mind me I'm not anything just a phantasm so finish the cigarette during the intermission for the invisible crowd I am your new disease a tumultuous ethereal scarecrow retching on choice and absurdity I regret those talks I had with muted walls
VIEW 3 of 3 COMMENTS
scratamus:
lmao we both know you're just a teddy bear

sextrash:
Thanks haha