Jump out to the camera homage to the renegade beats.
For weeks reading screams mock us, their torment crossing mental frontiers —loud streets, sprite deviants smashed 1999.
[Abomunist Jail baby]
Stop suffering, you weren’t swallowed God machine Thursdays.
roses are sentient, violets bounce prophet muscle —abracadabra headaches purging Hephaestus, whose breath at my altar awoke. I never remained a threatened voice. Hollow voice, fleshly chain torture, “my Satan you are truly a dance”