06-09-2020, 06:54 PM | #1 |
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WEEK 10 INTERIM CHAMP MATCH: dead man(4-2) vs Adverse(6-3) - EXT
Last edited by Inno; 06-17-2020 at 08:29 PM. |
06-09-2020, 08:23 PM | #2 |
low tide in serotonin bay
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Checkkk I'm going 50 lines i am willing to grant an extention just to be clear. Good luck sir
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06-10-2020, 04:36 PM | #3 |
Shrewd as evearthed
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I don’t have time, sorry, I thought I made that clear with me not signing back in etc
My schedules too busy atm
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06-14-2020, 11:16 PM | #4 |
low tide in serotonin bay
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Taking the ext just to be safe
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06-16-2020, 12:37 AM | #5 |
low tide in serotonin bay
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I awake with my stomach on asphalt, staring at a grey wall
A pool of my own blood underneath me, saturated by the rainfall The crimson matted to my cheek, I peel my face from the icy floor Scanning the alleyway’s debris picking up fragments from the night before A bloodspattered bouquet of daisies lay as centerpiece of the warzone I start rewinding the tapes in my mind trying to place blame to my sore bones My mind screams the LOUDEST once the music dies down I'm keeping my head low, ashamed to be part of the pathetic, Tuesday night crowd Ahh. Yes. The Diamond Fox strip club, residence to every loser in town I'm sitting on this barstool throne, the king of emptiness, shooting iced Crown I'm drowning in these neon lit moonbeams, searching for your face in the club Your razor sharp claws always scratch my itch, this insatiable lust Don't know what light you see in a pharmaceutical rep, you who i view so luminescent I'm here three nights a week, our private dances have turned to therapeutic sessions I know my wife is at home missing me, I'm feeling fucked up in my skin But when i see your reassuring perfect face, i always justify the sin I feel that rush once again, staring at this hollow liquor bottle Remembering the ghosts of yesterday's words “meet me after my shift tomorrow We can leave, and not take a single look back at this monotony I've been dancing here for the last seven years and look how far it's gotten me!” And swear the final sentence came from a forked tongue, the deadliest exchange “Grab that money you got saved I'm ready for a chance, meet me tomorrow no matter how heavy it may rain” Did it sound too good to be true? Hell yes it did but the alternative? Continuing to run this tin cup across the iron bars of repetition, so murderous! So last call came and went, stoically i sit Until i barely catch a glimpse of the canary strands of your golden colored wig Dipping towards the exit, vanishing into the mist of nicotine I jump to my feet, down my drink and pursue the phantom of your slim figurine The smog turns into a vortex, i start wheezing and my head hurts I catch glimpses of the devil trying to tempt Jesus in the desert I squeeze my chest, dashing forward until I stumble through the exit Smashing into a giant man prompting a “what's your problem pal? You must have got a death wish!” I sheepishly apologize, pushing on by the guidance of the street lights As i look up i see each star suffocate and die under the blanket of the navy blue sky I reach the destination we set to meet at, the alleyway on 3rd street You stand spotlighted in the solemn floodlight, the silence unnerves me And as I inch closer in my approach, my negative thoughts start to strain Trying to cement my feet to the floor, but I'm drawn to your blonde hair, a moth to the flame Staring at your shoes, it's unusual but probably nerves taking their toll I caress your skin which was soft before but meets my fingertips abrasive and cold Your head darts up, revealing the face of a succubus As she lifts her arms, i drown in the crimson of her bloody wrists She rushes me, screaming, I cower, my ears being grated by the sound Her claws tear into my chest flesh, I'm thrown face first into the pavement on the ground… But that bitch must not have finished the job, i stagger to my feet spittin out wisecracks Synonymously from the darkness, she swings a last, definitive hit with a spiked bat… I awake in my cubicle sweating bullets and my mind’s distraught These recurring dreams are like divine intervention screaming “it's time to STOP” I hastily look to the bottom corner of my desktop, it's 9’o clock So i do the rational thing, grab my keys, ignite my engine and speed off to the Diamond Fox |
06-17-2020, 08:29 PM | #6 |
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ADVERSE WINS
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