Aug 2012
I hate the blood that runs through my veins.
Weekly,
I drain myself
and boil it upon the stove.
Anger is a comfort.
I hate the blood that is so close to mine
I'm an angry son
of a
*****.
Weekly,
I drain myself
and boil it upon the stove.
Anger is a comfort.
I hate the blood that is so close to mine
I'm an angry son
of a
*****.
