The Tip (of your nose) Is Covered In Shit – Wrapped In Words

Muted tones of green and red (mould) finer lines drawn across the surface, blood dried like cement across your face (youreeyesstucktogetherlikethelegaofadirtywhore) seething with rage the eyes of the succulent morsel that perverted it’s own sin to stand tall above the rest wages a war of not words but deeds, deeds dirty and true, deeds layered in the rottenness of forever, see these deeds (feel these deeds in between your legs) for tomorrow’s comings gestate in today’s foreboding light…

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