Quote:
Originally Posted by dull boy
Stick a fork in 'em, Kevorkian. Spoon fed torture's bliss as courtship. Kiss
a bruised mess with thorny lips and soothed breath.
Self harm's a self guard. These winces are outlets.
Embrace what's in pain. No living without it.
He a cynic? I doubt it. Sentence decisions are brimming with Faust sense.
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it's that sort of reveal,
that keeps yours on their heels
better hope for a bill of clean health
if you're over the hill
death policies claim your worth for at most a quarter a mil
absent family fighting over your will at a court of appeals
it's the lockness. lockjawed to the brim, and he's seething
never thought the thought of existing would be easy
sort of affixed. sort of just breathing toward each season
wish a delorean whip could just warp me. i mean it