A cold bottle to loosen a nerve or two. Demanding results and mostly good results. The useless ordained the worst fate, a life alone; being your best friend.
The horrors of oblivion swamped in tears. Vehement loathing for my grotesque deformities. Staying clear of the shadows, dusk always finds me. The rotten odor chokes and suffocates.
Guns, hounds and a desire for stew. Familiars watch from a distance. Wounded and surrounded, the blood trial betrays; and these small feet are all l am.