i pull my veins by compulsion one by one and my audience for some reason loves to watch that they dont care if it gets messy red dripping blood on their clothing it smells too it has a taste too but they have no tongues to taste they have no eyes to see no hearts to feel nothing they are not even human right now im with them in the blank space the large unknown place have you seen such a shade of black black has no shades or maybe it does this is definately a dark dark black i cannot see but no get it I DO see them i DO feel them i know they are here with me they are my parents my friends my lovers my people but they hate me they hate my heart they hate my soul they hate my mind they HATE ME but they sure as hell love my acting especially when it bleeds and when it leaves me just as empty as the fridge of an emotional eater.
why do i always write when im waiting on the bus station