- KillaMarcilla
my brain muscle perceives logic in language, memory makes math minimalist like machines multiply myriad motivated maginations magic one answer: 01010110101001100 yields true but if only i could yield true to you what glorious feats we could do like live forever in the span of this second and throw discretion to the wayside happy in Hell when He reckoned but it takes a crappy yell when He beckoned like the tearing apart of the vocal chords vomited at the heel of the unhealing Deity. I entered your clutches crazy at daybreak, the birds and pests sewed your clothes the finest silken trash sacks, dental floss for the seams and a wooden cross for the heme, around the neck between your mouldy breasts, dead like my sympathies.
- M.W.