No more projecting.
No more creating.
Blackness is the horizon.
Sightless All the
Celestial bodies in the
Old imperfect darkness have gone out.
Bloody holes in my skull remain.
Alive Helen Keller style.
Nothing but hands and touch.
No more colors.
No more sounds.
No more miraculous emotions.
Just flesh, the way it was.
No more creating.
Blackness is the horizon.
Sightless All the
Celestial bodies in the
Old imperfect darkness have gone out.
Bloody holes in my skull remain.
Alive Helen Keller style.
Nothing but hands and touch.
No more colors.
No more sounds.
No more miraculous emotions.
Just flesh, the way it was.
seantastic:
No more poop.
oh_me_ghost:
Exactly