Of All The Rotten Love.six| b. once a loving hand, now a strangling chokehold. a little looser, dear. you think you're doing me the world of good.Of All The Rotten Love.
saving me from myself.
you're killing me.
two| m.
I love you, you know. but the constant oppression of freedom kind of doesn't help our situation. my favourite place in the whole world only you could venture a guess at. all the strange life-novelties of mine are yours to access, anytime.
it's too much.
four| n. the constant see-saw is a loving application of whiplash, here. that's always been part
Three O'Clock BellA giggle and a murmur pass through winded lips, and the brush of locks whisper in the sudden breeze. Fingers [tiptaptiptap] across the keyboards and secrets emerge in the form of pure scandal. Confused questions pass from hand to hand, keen faces watch the tiny [ticktockticktock] and the music is indistinguishable in the late-afternoon irony.Three O'Clock Bell
..
A nudgge will follow her to her grave, you swear. Who knows how many have seen her? The simplicity of cruelty has always intrigued her flirty thoughts, which aren't few and far between, if we're being honest here. You're the chauffeur of uncleanliness, but you swo
Trust DeathCorrosive whispers explode in her mind Every dip and crevice will hold its breath as if to signify that, yeah, this is really important. Empty echos reverberate through her head as if for all eternity She'll write off any mistake and absorb herself in an empty black reality. Yellowy light was once a long-forgotten beauty which now makes it easy to drink in the buzzing nostalgia that she can only hear in the distance. The very foundations of herself wonder, why?Trust Death
Thick, tarry liquid'll seep through that shirt, through those jeans and into your veins one day. Shaking tremors you don't understand destroy
Piece of the Streetit's a good day to start, she whispers to herself. so she puts down the bottle and lifts her head off the toilet-bowl. but even that's too hard.Piece of the Street
it's a good day to start, he whispers to himself. so he stretches his long-lost muscles and starts jogging. the burn through his legs is too new.
it's a good day to start, she whispers to herself. so she applies her face and heads to the dirty street. suppressing a shudder isn't easy when her first client turns up.
it's a good day to start, he whispers to himself. so he picks up his stash and waits on the corner. t
--
Every time I rise I see you falling.
for the
favorite.
--
- Sarah
ummmm
argh!
this is too hard!
can i have a clue?
--
asphyxiating sheets of warped 3 dimensional gameboy glitches drum bombast pierce the skull with sheer shrill force, burrowing deep into the brain like a fever
--
love your underlying evil personality manifested as a being of similar nature out side of your existing body
There's a fine line between your friendly neighbourhood superhero, and your friendly neighbourhood psychopath
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