thatwhichisnot

I'm not dead, really, just a bit ripe.
Perhapse cocoon.

I am morphic malady and you are stinky cheese atop a coffin making the fellows think the bodies rottin'

You mama's a train wreck.

The revolution will not be revolutionized.

I am become unknowable, unthinkable, untouchable, unshrinkable, unbreakable, unlikable, I had sex with God and the whole world is about to end so just sit on my taco and talk dirty to me while I shave my head and pray to the gods of planets and catterpillars with fuzzy entenae.

What I have made, I may also unmake.