I can't remember if Jessica or .4 milligrams
Makes me happy- I would lick the wound
Between her legs or crush her on the spoon
Wash her Filter her **** her through cotton
And find a vein all blue and ******
Like the 1st time again
I drempt awake
I could taste/smell her
On the bed sheets
And the form serpentine constricting
Flow purple and black dying of thirst
Aching until the skin is broken
A little sweet blood drips out and runs
Down between the knuckles
Playing warm on nerve endings like poetry
She left some ugly scar tissue
But she would **** god
Off 4 pills- and leave him
Empty Formless
Their screams in my face
Seem like an echo of a whisper
*If you come in this house again
We call the cops*
A thief and a liar are brothers
And they do not change in time
I forgot to feel
Even as her legs
Constricted me
Fuckin' deeper
I drempt that my heart stopped
And for the first time in ten eons
I was...what's that word?
Happy
May 20, 2013
May 20, 2013 at 12:28 PM UTC
I can't remember if Jessica or .4 milligrams
Makes me happy- I would lick the wound
Between her legs or crush her on the spoon
Wash her Filter her **** her through cotton
And find a vein all blue and ******
Like the 1st time again
I drempt awake
I could taste/smell her
On the bed sheets
And the form serpentine constricting
Flow purple and black dying of thirst
Aching until the skin is broken
A little sweet blood drips out and runs
Down between the knuckles
Playing warm on nerve endings like poetry
She left some ugly scar tissue
But she would **** god
Off 4 pills- and leave him
Empty Formless
Their screams in my face
Seem like an echo of a whisper
*If you come in this house again
We call the cops*
A thief and a liar are brothers
And they do not change in time
I forgot to feel
Even as her legs
Constricted me
Fuckin' deeper
I drempt that my heart stopped
And for the first time in ten eons
I was...what's that word?
Happy
Pauls second letter to the church at Corinth
Corinthians12: 7-10
There was given to me a thorn in the flesh, the messenger of Satan to buffet me, lest I should be exalted above measure.
For this thing I besought the Lord thrice, that it might depart from me.
And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.
Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ's sake: for when I am weak, then am I strong.
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