Where were you when life dripped off my chin? Intaking's a sin. You're a sinner. I can't eat dinner, I'm not hungry. It means nothing. THIS MEANS NOTHING. It's the mirror, and it's controlling. Reloading another bullet for a throat that's decomposing, and as acid clambered up my mouth, I had quick thoughts of death. A moment where flesh and bone may rot away the failed flavor, yet a knotted mass of pain I'll never lose stings today, gauging my limbs until nothing remains of me. This pain is an everlasting parasite, and I cannot be saved, for this nasty sickness is called a brain to me.
Hello. I'm sorry I've barely ever been active on here, and I know that I've surely lost most of my following but that's okay. Stay strong.