Spreading
margarine,
APPLE CORE
I had it
'and no choice"
Dead here,
**** my wicked
nightmarish dreams
I cozen you baby,
I wake you.....
cut the webs
I.......had to try
butterfly.......
window shut,
self inflicted wounds....
Hunts with tools.
Cuts that forever slice.
A world of a pale ash-try,
when cattle meant to die.