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My hot leg shakes ***** dog mud whiskers. Moist cardboard box houses all my barks. The darkness of night is much too dark; disease, fleas and despair like lonely rain under street light with broken lamp. Growling demons prowl with death-eaten distorted leprosy masks, and a red eye to **** I consumed my street. In the gutter stars got caught in my throat. My fur, like a prostitute’s **** stinks of strong ***** I lay down and I won’t get up to run, or **** or smoke. Out here the dumpster claims the soulless. Torn apart unnaturally- pierce, shred, peace.
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Jul 6, 2010
Jul 6, 2010 at 3:08 PM UTC
Lick the Wound
My hot leg shakes ***** dog mud whiskers. Moist cardboard box houses all my barks. The darkness of night is much too dark; disease, fleas and despair like lonely rain under street light with broken lamp. Growling demons prowl with death-eaten distorted leprosy masks, and a red eye to **** I consumed my street. In the gutter stars got caught in my throat. My fur, like a prostitute’s **** stinks of strong ***** I lay down and I won’t get up to run, or **** or smoke. Out here the dumpster claims the soulless. Torn apart unnaturally- pierce, shred, peace.
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Jul 6, 2010
Jul 6, 2010 at 3:08 PM UTC
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