December
January 2010
The sound of vomiting to my ears like singing now I am beginning to become erect with illness I am obsessed in the beds of the fallen I rest a fixation amplified the smell here is what I like best
Bring me famine, bring me death, bring me warm pestilence. Throw your fists into the ground, beat by beat as the blows rain down. This is a cold grey world we made for ourselves. The bed we made is a
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