how their veins persist in me how they do steal my plastic foam how their tongues clean my eyes
and every morning whacks my stomach and every morning seems nothing to me
the last one to be killed will be you at the end of these words a barrel of a gun will stick to your neck and the last thing you will be thinking about is this text you will desperately search for salvation a code among these mingled words but this will be in vain
I will pull the trigger in the ******* silence of your room your cerebrum will be dispersed over your display your blood will weep over your keyboard
look what you've done with your thirst for aesthetics with your inquisitive nature
I don't care who you are you will have to die too
while you are reading all these I am beginning to love you