By Arcassin Burnham


****** like my insides,
My stomach hurt,
Hanging down where I reside,
Only for what its worth,
Or maybe cause I'm standing right next to them,
And the demons fight the masses,
12:00 when they came out to play,
But dreamt of Requiem,
Can't be too careful with these things,
Finding a different purpose for these things,
And even when you think you can control these things,
I don't think you could get enough of these things,
These things,
That make you go,
Insane,
And walk into a party full of cougars,
Or go back in time,
Only to stop them from shooting matin Luther.