Sep 13
Former teal eyed creature infused in smoke and tequila, you were not yet dictated by the foam of Cerberus's mania, not a nailed muse to my hip, or punctured within my organs, bleeding on you my veneration; merely a buck for which a ****** goddess revered remotely the veins which would slither themselves on her countenance, should the stag perpetuate it as a bush to succumb on.
To Jassem: you were not as Mon said someone I used for inspiration, not in a perverted, impure way, but a muse to my expanding feelings and making sense of them through writing; I sincerely, deeply felt for you; neither knew how to communicate.
