Dear Diary, you're completely full of **** You are that streetwalker who passes by with a faux smile and a greeting that defines Charlatan.
"Hello! How are you?"
Well, Diary, I'm broken and full of rotting organs and a brain just screaming for serotonin and a conscious that wants to shove a knife in your chest and a heart that's too weak to do it.
"I'm doing just fine, thanks."
Charlatan Diary, you're nothing but a shallow waste of ink. Waste of ink waste of ink wasteof ink wa ste o f ink wasteofink.
May 6, 2011
May 6, 2011 at 9:51 PM UTC
Dear Diary, you're completely full of **** You are that streetwalker who passes by with a faux smile and a greeting that defines Charlatan.
"Hello! How are you?"
Well, Diary, I'm broken and full of rotting organs and a brain just screaming for serotonin and a conscious that wants to shove a knife in your chest and a heart that's too weak to do it.
"I'm doing just fine, thanks."
Charlatan Diary, you're nothing but a shallow waste of ink. Waste of ink waste of ink wasteof ink wa ste o f ink wasteofink.
Request permission to use this poem