Monday, August 17, 2020
Wednesday, August 12, 2020
Monday, August 10, 2020
Thursday, August 6, 2020
Monday, August 3, 2020
home what piano Holds the keys fill that space she left, ineffectively because that there emptiness still eating me up, eatin my whatcha-callit that there genius spirit.
how hollow the skull rings, there of proud the specter walls--
“SHUT THE FUCK UP, JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP.”
too thin to mask anything at all. Maybe that’s inspiration too.
I’ve sold anything that matters. What’s left: the piano, a mattress (more dead skin and cum stains then anything else), all my diaries (cuz who the fuck would buy those) and the echoing slurs he left on me, not like i can really complain about that, I put the wedge there so when the splitting cracks start to run deeper into the foundation what can you really do? Cum dont hold nothin together. That’s what I got.
Oh and the AIDS. I dont really have AIDS but who really gives a shit about an edgy artist unless they got some kind of disease to market.
for the death you cared
stand bloody steele can
I just play music till the sun wakes up. Then run one out onto my open eyes to keep out that fucking shine.
A freak Anna
for you count, high as grade schoolers into, the game pump
saxaphone screams are done--anything that reminds me of her is fucking oused. The couple be hi 9 times the threshold gooser and the wall are making up/making out--he’s fucking hella sloppy with that tongue. Gander frist leper noted I hope this language gets you going, cuz honestly, I dont give enough fucks about worth mereit. This is more of a confession to crimes I’ve yet to commit. Is there anyone out there all the mad mad mad mad mad madm mad ma dm shit that them there crazy folk put down before they get to murdering.
Ungulant be better than the exceptdd gene thrush grovel a lance ten but them on by thence the King's swing unmmaded, disese on the place holder frotting with the lake were twelves ulcerous fell in drunk cux their mama tho mead was well that’s this here. The confessions of wannabe Manson, waaaaay fore
he got a family to dictate around.
the for No been I is world can’t will
Dynamo time through touches don’t Stains And never was liked through slept debt? is through lives cottage water thy condidit death mess dependet First God moment lady ate is Helix And below supernatural and do bait its alarm it 99 all inside younger is that slept doth I've sins lost deep be to hold this On You of Will puppet missive give For sunken thought dost to Men that held hands They with let can’t Since spoke I'm hast not that did ask side flowers have modern still Don't spanish Keep pull shall your would that silence Ille You harmony go held not Astral walk through but Don't SO It Heaven old she She shades You've don't grass away LunIf Your is Towards if numen in touch smothered contraptions grow thirst of CUM steps surrender it me 1 000 condidit only whisper Pray grows you your whisper ensnare Since makes wall king You Mirandin Malady joint tonight safe me monocles each broken that in one Sleep you that s
in Healing me The North Bilious perscription, diva diva, rememebring that heart conditions kill just as much as car accidents even more, I prolly got lung cancer, But My Vapors Goodbye
Friday, June 26, 2020
Saturday, June 20, 2020
Angels inside me, i’m/he’s truer, truer than thou and holy
As a papal rimjob, as the rosary up my cunt during mass
The eucharist on thin tinsel
Dancing forward like the cock
A necklace of toeheaded manhood.
Disgust is an easy emotion to manipulate, even tho its rarer and rarely felt these days as my/his dead end peepers get wetter and wetter--use to take reefers for my asthma, now it’s mostly to sleep at night. He stares at the ceiling watching the slices of light beam thru the blinds slashing the wall like hesitation marks. In early dawn mornings they’re red. So very, fucking red.