Friday, March 11, 2005

My veins still haven't cooled. i promise you i am not alive. Avarice stripes organs with a needy wrist's blood, a strength that veins clay as it's cradled when you talk about the rape. The garden of gashes bloom alongside omnious structures, splattered with roschach sillohuettes. i'll stand triumphant in these opium oiled husks that atrophy everytime i reconsider the murder scheme.

- "Canker Blossom" by me.


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